Star Wars - Heart of Darkness
by TheWolfofthePalatine
Summary: A Jedi Knight starts to falls in love with his young apprentice, and must reconcile his feelings for her as he begins to slip towards the Dark Side of the Force while confronting an ancient threat to the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

**FOREWORD**

I'm taking a protracted break from my other fanfic on this site, as I wanted to put pen to paper on an idea that's been in the back of my mind for a really long time. It's always been something I wanted to do to explore some of the ridiculously intricate and detailed history of the Star Wars Expanded Universe and, in particular, the Sith Order. After doing a fair few hours of research into Star Wars' backstory, I finally decided on an era of its history that would allow me to explore in-depth the Sith as I think the films don't do (not by any fault of their own; the Sith were basically extinct during that period of the Expanded Universe's history).

For those wanting to keep track, this story is set in the Dark Age, during the Second Sith Civil War.

To everyone else, it's a period over 1000 years before the events of "The Phantom Menace," when the Republic had effectively ceased to be, and the New Sith Empire, as it was called, had imploded in a tidal-wave of infighting and civil war, with hundreds of independent Sith Lords rising up to challenge every other. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy, any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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**CHAPTER ONE**

"**Serendipity"**

Alarm klaxons cried mournfully as the darkness was bathed in rhythmic washes of red light. Jaxon Karr squinted in vain down the corridor, gripping the handrails for support. His head swam. Sweat trickled down his brow into his eyes, blurring his vision worse than the headache was doing. Had he been unconscious? He tried to remember, but all that remained was a searing white pain that threatened to overwhelm him every time he cast his mind back. He calmed himself and shut his eyes. _Clear your mind_, he thought, _focus on the here and now_. _The other answers will come later_. It was instinctual to him, the result of decades of learning and conditioning drilled into his head again and again and again and again. But it never failed to relax him. Jaxon took three deep breaths, steadying himself against the handrail. His legs had stopped shaking, and he could feel an immense calm start to wash over him. He could feel the Force around him, within him, as much a part of him as he was of it. _Clear your mind_.

Jaxon opened his eyes again.

The searing pain and blurred vision caused him to almost cry out and double over in pain, and he shut them again, desperately throwing his hands up to his face. He must have been knocked unconscious; it was the only explanation for the pain. For the blurred vision. For the memory loss. Jaxon's resolve wavered for a moment, but he caught himself out and focused. _The bridge_, his mind commanded, unbidden, _get to the bridge before the ship crashes, or explodes, or worse_. Somehow, Jaxon's legs obeyed though his eyes remained winced shut. He could feel the dying metal leviathan around him, he knew his way around the corridors, he could feel the pulse of machinery and computers in the bridge somewhere above him and behind where he was now. The Force would guide him.

Jaxon's legs found their way to the emergency stairwell – the darkening of the corridors meant that the generators were failing; the elevators weren't an option – and clanked their way up two decks to the officer's quarters. The heat in the cramped stairwell was unbearable, and twice Jaxon stopped to catch his breath, sucking in harsh lungfuls of dry, hot air. _Something's horribly wrong_, he told himself. _The ship's reactor must be overheating – it's cooking the hull mid-flight_. Jaxon collected himself and pushed against the heavy steel door separating him from the bridge deck corridor. It resisted him stubbornly, its power having been cut when the ship's systems failed. Jaxon frowned, and reached a hand down to his belt.

For a split second, Jaxon's heart dropped and a wave of panic came over him as he didn't find it immediately but, sure enough, his hand enclosed around the cold metal tube and he unhooked it from its place on his belt, immediately soothed by the weight of it in his hand. There was a bursting sound from the lightsaber as he engaged the kill switch, and the dark stairwell was bathed in the light of the blue flame from the humming blade. The blade slipped through the heavy metal of the door like a hot knife through snow, turning the swathe Jaxon cut through it molten orange before his very eyes. He coughed against the sickening toxic smell that rose up from the melting metal, but continued cutting a man-sized template out of the door. Satisfied with his work after he'd cut a rectangle about his height into the steel surface in front of him, Jaxon replaced his lightsaber on his belt and calmly pushed the cut section of the door out of its frame, the Force tingling through his fingertips as he did so. It slammed against the opposite wall of another dark and boiling corridor with a loud clang, and Jaxon stepped through. His eyes were adjusting now, the ache in his head retreating to a dull beat just behind his eyeballs. He squinted through the slowly pulsing red lights of the alarms and pressed on in the direction of the bridge.

Around him, the ship felt hollow and bare, devoid of the comforting pulse of life that he was used to sensing at all times when around other people. It could only mean that, somehow, the entire crew had perished in whatever misfortune had struck the starship to leave it in this predicament. Jaxon swallowed hard. He had enjoyed the rowdiness of the crew, from the fat and loud helmsman Janek, witty and angel-faced Flight Officer Asha Mun and the mild-mannered but authoritative Captain Lars Deraan. It struck Jaxon in a bout of depression to realise that they, and all their other crew members, had perished. Whatever had happened, it had left just himself and one other alive on the ship – he could sense her just ahead, and it was a well-needed relief when he rounded the corner and saw that she was safe.

Amely Cora had stripped off her outer-garments in the dangerous heat of the dying starship. Only a short vest remained, revealing, from where Jaxon approached from, her back glistening with sweat. Her lightsaber hung by her hip, bouncing against her as she struggled to hotwire the blast doors leading to the bridge. On the other side of the door, her little yellow astromech droid, R1-A6, was desperately fiddling with a power outlet, attempting to jumpstart the doors. In spite of their situation, Jaxon couldn't suppress a smile. He was proud of his young padawan. She'd been more calm and focused on their present predicament than he was. He made a mental note to praise her later, when they got out of this.

Amely sensed Jaxon as he approached her from behind. 'I thought I was going to have to go and find you, Master,' she quipped, not looking up from the electronics panel she was trying to hotwire. R1 whirred and beeped. 'I don't think Boxy wanted to go back for you,' she said with a sly grin, 'he wanted to just get outa' here before things got even worse.' Amely always referred to her astrodroid as "Boxy." Jaxon had never corrected her – she'd done so from a very young age, when she'd gotten him off a trader in Tatooine, and she still did now, even at the age of 16 when giving your droids pet names was considered a little childish.

'Let me,' Jaxon said calmly, taking the wires out of her hands. Amely obeyed quietly, backing off a few metres to watch her master. Very quickly, Jaxon found the appropriate wires and twined them together, tricking the blast door into releasing its locks and sliding open.

'Quickly, Boxy!' Amely shouted as she sprinted into the bridge, the little R1 unit beeping and whirring as he rolled along behind her.

Janek's large frame was slumped over the helming panel. Jaxon approached him slowly, taken aback by what he saw. 'He's been shot at close-range by a blaster,' he exclaimed, half to himself to overcome his disbelief. How had he not sensed it? 'This wasn't just some mechanical failure...'

Amely stared across the bridge at Jaxon, her eyes wide in the darkness. 'No,' she croaked, 'I'd have known...I'd have sensed it...I...' she paused. 'I did. I must have.' She hurried over to an auxiliary panel by the viewing port and punched in a command on the display. 'All the lifeboats have been jettisoned,' she read out, 'only one was showing lifesigns at the time. How did I not see it...' she slumped into a nearby chair and put her head in her hands. 'Someone betrayed the crew and left us all for dead!'

Jaxon had reached much the same conclusion. 'Be mindful of your feelings, my young apprentice,' he said soothingly. 'Even I did not sense the turncloak amongst us. There is more here than meets the eye, but right now' – there was a crash from somewhere in the ship behind them, and the entire room quaked – 'we have slightly more pressing concerns!'

'Right,' Amely shot up and crossed to the centre panel, tapping away at the screen. Jaxon pushed Janek's heavy body off the helming panel and sat down in the helmsman's chair, trying to bring the ship under his control. 'Life support failing,' Amely diligently relayed information she was seeing from her panel in the cockpit below the helm, which stood on a platform overlooking the room. 'Shields at 25%, controls...'

'Non-responsive,' Jaxon finished for her, prodding uselessly at the control panel in front of him. 'R1, see if you can bring these controls back online – and hurry!' R1 whistled his consent and wheeled his way up to the helm, interfacing with a small astromech droid port on the side of the panel. There was another loud crash, and for a moment the bridge was bathed entirely in darkness. Jaxon closed his eyes again. The sound of alarms in the distance, the ship creaking and groaning around him as bulkheads strained and twisted against the crush of space, the vibrations in his chair beneath him as the starship slowly shook itself apart...how had he let himself get into this mess?

Jaxon was snapped back into the present by Amely's voice. 'Mayday, mayday!' She was calling into a receiver by her panel, 'this is medical vessel _Serendipity_, broadcasting on all emergency channels. We have suffered a critical systems failure and are going down, I say again, medical vessel _Serendipity_ broadcasting on all emergency channels, suffered critical systems failure and is going down. Requesting any starships in our quadrant divert course for intercept, over.' She sank back into her chair. 'Communications are down,' she moaned, but then something on the panel caught her eye. She sat bolt upright, and was still for a moment, and then tapped in a few commands, was still again as she read the information off the screen, and then tapped in a few more. She snapped her head around to look at Jaxon. 'We're trapped in some sort of gravity well,' she reported, 'it's pulling us down.'

'Focus,' Jaxon commanded gently, 'you needn't rely on sensors and computer terminals to tell you what the Force already can. Clear your mind, be mindful of the present.'

Below him in the cockpit, Amely visibly relaxed, her shoulders slumping down as she focused on her surroundings. 'It's a planet,' she said at length, her eyes flicking up to Jaxon, who nodded his head proudly. 'We're on the dark side of it right now so we can't see it,' she gasped, 'we're being pulled down onto a planet!'

Almost on cue, R1 whistled and beeped in triumph just as Jaxon's screen reset itself. Cautiously, Jaxon reached a hand out and keyed the command to extend the stabilisers. There was an ugly grinding sound around them, but at last the screen read that the action had been completed. They had nominal control of the ship.

Sensing this, Amely spun around and started back at her panel again. A flicker of excitement blazed through Jaxon as he started to key in commands and bring navigational control of the starship back under his control – they may make it out of this yet, he thought determinedly to himself. The engines had failed, but with luck and trust in the Force, he felt confident he would be able to steer the ship enough to bring it down relatively safely somewhere on the planet below. That in mind, they were still flying with little to no systems into night-time on an unfamiliar planet; crash-landing this thing would be no mean feat.

Jaxon felt the Force around him as the ship stabilised, the gravitational pull on the nose now sending her into a sharp nose-dive towards what he knew would be the planet's surface. _Focus and clear your mind_, he told himself. _The Force will guide you_. 'Brace for atmo burn,' he said aloud, and below him Amely keyed in a few commands into her panel right before the ship hit the planet's atmosphere. There was a bang, and the entire viewport suddenly blazed with a blinding flame as the ship was engulfed in the world's atmosphere. Jaxon heard Amely gasp, and he peered through the light that now lit up the entire bridge, casting great shadows over the room as the flames flickered and danced over the ship's unshielded hull.

'It's so beautiful...' he thought he heard her whisper.

'Focus, Amely!' Jaxon allowed himself to snap at her. He needed her full attention for what was about to happen. 'Extend all flaps and auxiliary stabilisers,' he said quickly, fighting against the nosedive in a vain attempt to bring the ship level. Amely obeyed, keying in the appropriate commands into her panel. 'Get ready to divert all emergency power to the booster thrusters,' he said as he gazed out the viewport, hoping against hope to see something of the planet's surface below. This would take absolutely perfect timing, he was aware. A second too late or too early and the ship wouldn't be level, and would simply smash into the planet's surface and take them both down with it.

'_All_ emergency power?' Amely turned in her chair. 'We'll lose total control of the ship!'

'That's why we have to get the timing exact,' Jaxon replied as he fiddled with the pitch controls to default the nose to an upwards angle. It wouldn't work without engine power, but it may trick the ship's systems enough to give them an extra _inch_ in the difference between a crash landing and an outright crash. Amely nodded her head and followed through.

'Ready when you are,' she said. Jaxon closed his eyes.

Now that they were in atmosphere they didn't have much time. He felt the ship around him, a dying giant plummeting to an uncertain grave. He felt the night around and below him, the vibrant pulse of life on the planet. He felt the air around the ship, singing in disharmony as this flaming beast fell from the heavens. He saw the ship as a casual observer would, outside, plummeting towards a thick jungle canopy, black against black in the night. He could see the outline of mountains against the starry sky in the distance, and _Serendipity_ falling, almost of a level with their peaks. Jaxon opened his eyes.

'NOW!' he shouted, 'Fire the boosters now!'

Amely punched her screen, and there was a roar as the booster engines fired into life. With the flaps all fully extended to slow the ship's descent, and the stabilisers working against the very laws of physics to try in vain to steady the ship in atmosphere and bring it level, firing the booster engines at this speed would counter-balance the ship's centre of gravity, and topple it backwards. The hull would, in effect, flip around, and the aft would crash into the ground – unless the timing had been perfect, as Jaxon planned, and the ship would hit the ground below just as it came to be exactly level.

Around them, the alarm klaxons waned and died as power was bled from them to feed the engines. The panels around the bridge flickered and then shut down, and emergency lighting systems failed. They had already broken the atmosphere, and so the flames around the hull had died, leaving them in total darkness as their ship roared towards the ground at breakneck speed.

Jaxon could feel instinctively the massive planet rushing up to meet them. Amely screamed; no doubt she could too.

'BRACE FOR IMPACT!' he yelled over the screech of metal, and then he felt himself being slammed forwards.

His world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

****This second chapter was originally intended to cover DOUBLE what it covers in terms of the plot I have in mind; unfortunately it became way too long to continue so I had to cut it short in what is effectively the half-way point (Chapter Three will now be the second half, and Chapter Four will be what I had intended Chapter Three to be). Still, I hope it's not too slow, and I'll aim to have the next chapter up as soon as possible!

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**CHAPTER TWO**

"**Akasha"**

Jaxon's head hurt.

He had tried opening his eyes about an hour ago, but the pain had been so bad he'd shut them again and slipped back out of consciousness.

Now, he lay in darkness, his body paralysed by agony from the fall he'd taken from the helm. He could hear sounds around him; the great cacophony of nature, animals and birds and insects and the whispers of wind in trees he could not see. They had landed in some sort of forest or jungle, his instincts told him, but he didn't want to open his eyes and raise his head to see.

Again, he slipped back into darkness.

His entire body ached. His muscles spasmed and his bones creaked. He gradually became aware of the sounds around him again, and, at the very periphery of his perception, realised he could sense something moving.

He heard the sound of metal straining and then settling again as weights shifted on it, as something crawled closer to him. _Lightsaber_. The first intelligible thought to come to him since he'd been lying broken there screamed caution; defence; violence. He heard the creak of metal again, and felt something close to him. He tried to will his body to move, his eyes to open, for the Force to bring his lightsaber into his grasp, but to no avail.

Invisible hands took a hold of him, and with a violent wrench that cut his side on something jagged and sharp, started to lift him down from where he lay. He felt multiple pairs of hands handle him, gently now that he'd been freed from the wreckage, and carefully lay him down on the ground. There were voices around him, speaking urgently and quickly in a language he could not make out. Hands prodded at his cut side, sending a shooting pain through him. Jaxon's mouth twisted into a noiseless scream, and his back arched away from the sensation. Images flooded his mind's eye; the explosion on the _Serendipity_ that had knocked him unconscious, waking up to find Amely trying to get into the bridge, attempting to land the ship without crashing it, the gut-wrenching _WHAM_ as the ship hit the ground, sending Jaxon toppling head first over the control panel and into darkness. The pain had somehow shaken some of the cobwebs from his mind. He didn't feel as dull or groggy as he had just a few seconds before. He sucked in a deep breath – consciously – and realised he could feel his extremities again. He tried wriggling his fingers and his toes, and felt the blood start to flow back through them.

He felt more hands at him. Someone was scrabbling at something on his belt, and with a _click_ it came free. _Lightsaber!_ His mind said again, and in a fit of panic Jaxon's eyes shot open. Ignoring the blinding light, he jumped to his feet and, though wobbly, spun to find the thing that had relieved him of his weapon.

He was greeted by the sounds of half-a-dozen weapons being loaded and cocked and pointed in his direction.

On instinct, Jaxon raised his hands, gazing at the dirty faces around him. All human, all in mismatched, tattered remnants of military uniforms, mixed and matched in some cases from three or four different sources, it appeared. There were five in total surrounding Jaxon now, and each one with a rifle trained on his head or body.

Despite the predicament he found himself in, Jaxon came to grips with his bearings. The sounds of nature he had heard when he was passing in and out of consciousness were quickly and easily explained – they appeared to be in some sort of jungle. Great big green plants and trees rose up all around them, already starting to envelop the wreckage of what Jaxon saw was the _Serendipity_, burnt out and ruined where it had crashed down. It looked comically out of place in the humid jungle, lying there like some black, burning skeleton of a dead monster from the stars. Somewhere behind it, great plumes of smoke rose up into the morning sky, telling Jaxon that the starship had skidded to an eventual halt leaving a long trail of destruction behind it. He grimaced. He had not counted on the planet being inhabited, and now just hoped nobody had been killed.

Somewhere behind him, a gravelly voice barked out an order in the strange language Jaxon had not recognised earlier. The people surrounding him lowered their weapons, and Jaxon turned around slowly, lowering his hands as he did so. He was face-to-face with a tall and imposing dark-skinned man with strikingly bright blue eyes, his hair tied back into dreadlocks and wearing the same home-made makeshift uniforms as his compatriots. In one powerful hand he clutched what Jaxon immediately recognised as being his lightsaber. Jaxon fought the impulse to reach out to it with the Force and bring it back to him – such a display would probably be seen as hostile from the gathered soldiers. Instead, Jaxon swallowed hard as the man caught Jaxon's gaze and grinned.

He spoke quietly in his nonsense language, the only word that Jaxon recognised for certain being "Jedi." _At least he knows who I am_, Jaxon thought to himself. _That will expedite matters_. Ultimately, that could be very, very good, or very, very bad. Jaxon's head was still not clear enough for him to focus and work out which yet. At length, the big man barked another order to his people and turned on his heel, starting to move off through the undergrowth, Jaxon's lightsaber still in hand.

Two of the soldiers who had extricated Jaxon from the wreckage of the _Serendipity_ moved in front of him now, following their apparent leader, weapons shouldered casually. He felt a sharp prod in the small of his back, and realised he was being urged to follow. Not seeing any alternative, Jaxon obeyed, numb legs following the trail cut by the three men ahead of him.

They walked for about, Jaxon guessed, fifty meters, trampling through the undergrowth as they followed the big man who had taken Jaxon's lightsaber from him. Just as Jaxon was started to grow weary, his aching legs and wounded side sapping the energy from his muscles, he heard the familiar whistling and beeping of R1 somewhere ahead of him. _Amely is ahead_! Jaxon could barely suppress a smile, and he quickened his pace, falling in behind the two soldiers ahead of him as they rounded the trunk of a massive tree and came into what appeared to be a small camp set up in a rare clearing in the choking mess of trees and vines of the jungle. He spotted the yellow canister that was R1 immediately, and sat next to him, wiping mud and dirt off the little astro droid, was Amely, in surprisingly good shape for a girl who'd just been through a starship crash and survived. She looked up as the soldiers entered the clearing, and smiled thinly in Jaxon's direction. As the large man began barking out more orders to the six or seven other soldiers who'd been lazing around the small camp, Jaxon made his way over to Amely. Their hands had not been bound, and so he was able to put a firm hand on her shoulder by way of his gratefulness to see her. It was only then he realised that she was trembling.

He looked into her eyes as she pushed a lock of dark brown hair out of her face and could sense the fear within her. He very much wanted to say something to comfort her, or to remind her to keep her emotions controlled and her head clear, but before he could say anything they were urged on again by the big man and his troops, who'd quickly broken their makeshift camp and settled into a loose column to continue their trek. Jaxon and Amely followed, flanked by a man and a woman, both in mismatched military uniforms and carrying rifles. R1 whistled and whirred his way behind them, seemingly oblivious to the apparent danger they were in.

Amely too, it seemed, had had her lightsaber taken off her – she marched obediently in step with her master, her hip looking strangely bare without the silver hilt of her blade dangling off it. Despite himself, Jaxon found he was relaxed – his side hurt where it had been cut in the _Serendipity_, and he still had the makings of a headache, but he had sized up the enemy force and, more importantly, knew where his lightsaber was. _A Jedi does not seek out a fight, but must nonetheless have predetermined a path to victory should one break out_. Feeling the uncertainty and unease start to roll off his back in the face of the doctrine that had been drilled into him since childhood, Jaxon allowed himself an easy smile.

'I don't like this,' Amely muttered next to him, clearly not sharing in his solace. 'I wish I knew where we were or what was happening.' Behind her, R1 – _Boxy_, Jaxon remembered – beeped his agreement.

'Be ever mindful of your feelings, padawan,' Jaxon replied gently to her, 'and do not let them cloud your judgement.'

'What about our mission, master?'

Jaxon frowned. 'Our mission mattered when the _Serendipity_ was in flight; it will matter again when we find a ship to take us off this planet. It is neither here, nor now, however. Always be centred on the present, not bewailing the past or worrying about the future. It is the present that counts.'

Next to him, Amely nodded her head in studious understanding, but he could sense her uncertainty. It had meant a lot to her, embarking on her first mission as a Jedi Apprentice, and she had believed in the importance of what they were doing. She seemed troubled by the stark possibility of not completing that mission, but Jaxon could not afford to worry about his student's mindframe right now. He had to keep his mind clear and his senses sharp. They were still in a dangerous place, no matter how confident he felt in his ability to defeat these men in combat, should it come to that.

They trekked through the strangling jungle for upwards of two hours. They hacked their way through undergrowth thick and thicker than the spot their ship had crashed in; across ridges only a half-metre wide with a sheer plummet to one side; and followed a river for some time which came up to their midsections at certain locations (Amely had refused to continue until two of the would-be soldiers marching with them agreed to build a makeshift stretcher for Boxy to carry him overhead and away from the water. Begrudgingly, they had at last agreed). The air was thick and heavy with humidity, making it hard to breathe and taking its toll on Jaxon's exhausted frame. Though the agony of the march began to wear him down and drain on his humour (it got increasingly difficult to force his mind not to wander, and to stay attuned to the moment), he was proud of Amely – she was as strong in body as she was in spirit, and showed no signs of tiring or giving up their long march. The men and women of the column did not speak to them, except in grunts or gestures when Jaxon fell behind or stumbled.

It only got worse in the third hour. They had approached the foot of the mountains that Jaxon has envisioned earlier, while the _Serendipity_ was going down, and the leader of the party now bid them to trek uphill. Jaxon would have groaned, but he was wary of showing his weakness to Amely, for fear that she may lose heart in her concern for him. She was a good student, Jaxon thought, who promised to one day make a brilliant Jedi – but she had not yet taken control of her feelings as a Jedi should. The air of uncertainty she had demonstrated earlier still stuck to her as she furrowed her brow, nonetheless seeming unbreakable and invincible as they continued the agonising march uphill. Jaxon could almost feel her mind at work, weighing up their situation in contrast to their original mission – sooner or later, he realised, it would dawn on her that, without the _Serendipity's_ cargo, it was impossible to complete what they had been tasked with doing. That revelation would weigh down heavily on her conscience, he was sure, and he only hoped that he had time to rest, both physically and mentally, before he was forced to allay her concerns in that regard. Jaxon sighed to himself as he pulled his battered frame up a particularly large boulder, wincing with the effort. Thinking about his young padawan was a welcome distraction from the aches and pains permeating every inch of his body. He was fond of Amely; her spirit had a fire within it that often got her in trouble with the Jedi Masters, but which made her an interesting student to teach. _The best teachers learn as much from their students as their students do from them, if not more_, Jedi Master Vannar Treece would repeat at length to Knights taking up padawan learners for the first time. He had certainly learnt a lot from the 16-year-old padawan in the short space of time they'd been together, Jaxon mused. Amely's free spirit was pointed by a sharp mind and a quick and playful wit that made her stand out amongst the studious and quietly obedient padawans that the Masters seemed to prefer. That Skere Kaan – one of the most outspoken and controversial Jedi Knights of Jaxon's acquaintance – had petitioned the Council for the right to train her himself spoke to her rebellious nature. Kaan was despised by many traditionalists for being too radical in his views and too loose with established dogma. Had the times not been as bleak as they were, Jaxon very much doubted that the Council would continue to put up with Kaan's ravings.

'Try not to fall behind, master!' Amely's voice snapped Jaxon back to the hike, and brought back the pain gripping his tired frame. She was a few meters in front of him, walking side-by-side with Boxy who, despite his design, was managing somehow to navigate the treacherous winding path up the mountain.

Ordinarily Jaxon would have been taken in by the immense beauty of his surroundings. Up here, above the treeline, you could see that the jungle stretched on to touch the horizon in every direction, a marvellous ocean of green buzzing with the rampant fervour of life underneath a clear blue sky. This climb was taking a protracted toll on Jaxon, however, who was quickly losing his ability to remain focused – he needed to rest; every joint in his body screamed it at him.

At last, when the bright sun was starting to descend in the sky above them, and Jaxon felt at last that his legs were about to give out, they came upon the remnants of what had clearly once been a significantly sized camp in the shadow of the peak of what appeared to be the smallest mountain on the range that crashed through the jungle. The small plateau commanded a view of the entire area – including, Jaxon noted, the rising tendrils of smoke from the crash site a long way in the distance. He was overwhelmed by how far they had travelled, and realised that these men and women were no doubt hardened frontiersmen – they had spent some time in the jungle and the mountains, on the move day in, day out, never staying in one place for long if their clothes or lodgings were anything to go by. _Were they guerrillas_? Jaxon wondered, though found he did not have strength enough to search his feelings for the answer. Even the Force could not help the exhausted; he needed to rest, and soon.

The troops broke formation in the camp, eased themselves of packs and weapons and took the time to lie down, some dozing off right then and there under the cool orange glow of the setting sun, others setting up portable stoves and cooking themselves meals. The leader of the group left Jaxon and Amely where they stood, unsure and nervous in the centre of the camp, and crossed over to a tent set up in a shallow cave, pushing through the flaps and disappearing inside. Rather than wait for the big man to return, Jaxon sat down on a small boulder, breathing a deep sigh of relief at giving his frame a chance, at last, to rest a little.

He remained still for a few seconds and then turned his attention to his boots, which he pulled off with a wince – his feet had swollen to nearly twice their usual size on the march, and looked red and sore now that he had a chance to take a look at them.

'Here, master, let me,' Amely offered, crouching down in front of him and helping him remove his second boot. 'You're getting too old for this, looks like,' she tried contriving a playful tone in her voice, but it came out flat and dead – even she sounded exhausted. Both of them would do well with a full night's sleep after the ordeal of the preceding day and night, Jaxon felt.

'I'm not even twice your age,' Jaxon protested childishly, losing himself for a moment in Amely's little game, 'tell me, how is that "too old" for this?'

Amely flashed him a coy, tired smile. 'I don't recall you present and correct on deck as the _Serendipity_ started to break up and fall towards this...wherever we are.'

'No? Well, what _I_ recall was being knocked unconscious in the first explosion,' Jaxon scoffed back at her, 'something that not even youth can claim to be imperv—' he stopped himself mid-sentence when he caught the shadow of emotion that flickered across Amely's pretty features. She hadn't meant to make light of the tragic fate of the _Serendipity_ and her crew; the quip had slipped out of her mouth before she'd even had time to think it through. Jaxon could sense the cold flutter of her heart as the full horror of it played out in her mind.

Jaxon put a hand out and touched her warm cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers. 'Don't mourn the dead,' he whispered softly to her, 'for death is just another path in life. Rejoice that they have become one with the Force; one with us, forever and for always.'

'Jedi!' the big man had reappeared in the flaps of the tent, and was gesturing towards Jaxon. Jaxon winced sharply as he replaced his boots, his feet feeling as if they were on fire, and squeezed Amely's shoulder firmly.

'Get some rest, my young padawan. We're not out of this yet.' Then he left her and pushed into the shade of the tent.

It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness in the tent, but as they did he saw it was inhabited by just one man. He had dark hair and a slight beard sitting on an olive-skinned face from which two light brown eyes blazed out with the fire of youth. He was the first one of this group Jaxon had seen to be wearing a full military uniform, but judging from its ill-fit and its condition Jaxon supposed it to be stolen. A red beret completed the outfit, badged by a symbol Jaxon did not recognise. Next to where he sat, on a small stand, lay the two Jedi's lightsabers. The man motioned to a chair by a burning fire and stove which filled the tent with thick, acrid smokey fumes.

'Sit. You must be hungry. Please, help yourself,' the man spoke in a heavy accent, but with a friendly inflection to his tone. Jaxon felt himself grow at ease, but he commanded himself to remain wary and in the present. _Be mindful of your surroundings and of those around you_. Nevertheless, Jaxon sat and, having determined through his senses that the offer of food was not a trap, he scooped out a generous ladle of the cooking broth into a wooden bowl that had been provided. To Jaxon, the food looked like some sort of melted orange rice, more goo than rice at this stage, though the smell was appetising and it was hot. He took a tentative corner of his spoon into his mouth and, realising it was tasty, started to hungrily wolf down his bowl, before going for seconds. The dark-haired man – no doubt the leader of this small band of soldiers, Jaxon knew – smiled a warm smile.

'Do you believe in providence, Jedi?' the man broke the silence as Jaxon was halfway through his second bowl.

Jaxon cleared his throat before responding, 'I believe the Force watches over us all, in its own way, yes.'

The man chuckled. 'Of course. Expect a Jedi to answer as much.' He straightened his tunic and leaned forwards in his chair. 'But from my perspective, seeing two Jedi Knights fall from the sky, right into my lap just as I prepare to begin the final push of my campaign in this jungle – this, to me, seems like the work of providence.'

Jaxon shrugged. 'If there is a destiny, then it works in mysterious ways.'

'Ahh, but, of course! So tell me, what is it that brought you into this system anyway? What hand of destiny brought you to my jungle?'

Jaxon frowned; should he trust this man with the intricacies of his and Amely's mission? He thought it better to proceed with caution until he had more figured out. 'My young apprentice and I were travelling in a supply ship when we suffered a catastrophic system's failure,' he wasn't necessarily lying – medical ships were a kind of supply ship, in certain situations. 'We managed to crash land in...' Jaxon paused, 'to be honest, I'm not even sure where we are right now.'

The man gave a hearty laughed and slapped his thigh as he did so. 'Jedi, your Force has not been kind to you – you find yourself in the hottest, darkest corner of this bleak galaxy – these are the jungles of Xyxotl, where reside more horrors than can be recounted.'

Jaxon searched his feelings. 'I have never heard of the Xyxotl System,' he said at length, unnerved by his lack of knowledge of whatever quadrant of space they now found themselves in. Again, though, the man gave a loud bark of a laugh.

'Xyxotl is not a system,' he responded cheerfully, 'it is a nation-state. One of the Four Great Nations of Akasha; the world you now find yourself on.'

Akasha. That name _did_ ring a bell, though Jaxon did not know much about it. It was a far-flung planet in the upper reaches of the galaxy; according to the Jedi archives it had gone dark over sixty years ago as the Republic began to collapse and its holonet – that linked its capital to all of its outlying worlds – failed. The planet had a long history of internal strife, no doubt exemplified by these "Four Great Nations" this man spoke of, which had always made it difficult for the Republic to govern.

'Do you have a name, Jedi? Or do they take that from you too?' the man's voice brought Jaxon back to the present.

'I am Jedi Master Jaxon Karr,' he responded coolly.

The man grinned. 'It is a pleasure, Jedi Master Jaxon Karr.' He cleared his throat noisily. 'I am Commandant Zivo Gerara of the Xyxotl National Liberation Army, commanding officer of this battalion.' He paused expectantly, as if waiting for Jaxon to be overwhelmed by awe. When he wasn't, the man frowned.

'You and your men are rebels?' was Jaxon's eventual response. It fit; it explained the small numbers and the tattered attempts at uniforms.

'We are _liberators_,' he replied sternly, 'striving to free the downtrodden from the compassionless and vile clutches of the government and the mining franchises that oppress the people.' Again, Zivo leant forwards in his chair to be closer to Jaxon. 'And now the fates bring two Jedi to my doorstep, just as I prepare for the final stage of this campaign. The protectors of truth and justice in the galaxy, now come to Xyxotl! What a stroke of luck,' he smiled.

Jaxon swallowed; he had not come halfway across the galaxy to fight some idealist's revolution. The Jedi were now too few to risk a Master and Apprentice disappearing into the jungles to fight a rebellion – his only goal was to barter passage off the planet for himself and Amely and get back to friendly space. Right now, however, Zivo and his troops did not need to know that.

'But do not dwell on this just now, Jedi,' Zivo grinned, 'you must be weary after your ordeal. We shall not break camp until late afternoon tomorrow; by all means, go, sleep, rest. Tomorrow we shall talk of liberation.' He gestured with his hand to the flaps of the tent, and Jaxon took this as his sign to leave.

Jaxon stood up, grateful to be able to go to sleep on a full stomach, and made for the cool air outside.

'Wait, Master Karr!' Jaxon froze in the doorway, and turned back to face Zivo. 'One last thing.' The Commandant picked up both lightsabers in his two hands, and held them teasingly out. 'A Jedi is not a Jedi without their swords,' he said with a wicked grin.

For a moment, Jaxon hesitated, but his senses told him that this, too, was no trick. Zivo was earnestly returning to him and Amely their weapons. Jaxon reached out a hand, and willed the lightsabers come to him, feeling the Force flowing through his outstretched arm. Effortlessly, the two silver hilts jumped out of Zivo's hand and flew straight into Jaxon's grasp. He bowed respectfully before leaving Zivo in his tent, grinning wildly from ear to ear.

Amely was already asleep by the time Jaxon emerged from the tent, R1 powered down next to where she was curled up under a blanket no doubt provided for her by one of the guerrillas. An empty bowl next to where she lay told Jaxon that she, too, had been fed, and this put his mind at ease enough for him to lay down and finally give in to the exhaustion wracking his frame. The sun had not yet sunk below the overgrowth on the horizon, but it mattered little – the more sleep Jaxon could find for himself, the better.

He sat down with his back to the rockface of the mountain, in a position where he could watch over Amely, and slowly felt himself drifting off to sleep. Underneath his tunic, he felt the comforting weight of both lightsabers pressing against his belly. They were armed again.

Before dawn broke, Amely was already up. When Jaxon found her, she was stood by the sheer precipice of the plateau, legs splayed apart and hands clasped behind her back, eyes shut. He could feel the calm in her heart; the Force flowing through her as she meditated. They were the only two up, it seemed; tents remained closed around him, cookfires wasted away to embers by their flaps. R1 was still powered down, and Amely had left him where he was, eager to preserve his energy.

Jaxon came up slowly behind her, and knew she had sensed him.

'I sense a disturbance, master,' she said softly. Jaxon nodded. It had awoken him too. 'Something stirs in the jungle.'

'Search your feelings,' he whispered as he came up alongside her, staring into the pale blue morning sky. 'Clear your mind. Focus. You will find the answer within yourself.'

Amely drew a deep breath, and remained quiet for what seemed to Jaxon like a long time.

'We are being followed,' she said at length. Jaxon nodded proudly at his padawan. 'Something is stalking this band of warriors – something...something...' she growled in frustration. 'I cannot see it,' she eventually admitted defeat. Beside her, Jaxon smiled.

'Your feelings serve you well, my young apprentice.' He sighed. 'There is another band of armed men somewhere in this jungle, and they know the position of this...' he hesitated, '...Xyxotl National Liberation Army. They will catch up with us before the day is out.' Jaxon held out Amely's lightsaber for her, and, grateful to see it again, she took it off him with a fond grin. 'You will have need of this, I fear,' he said calmly.

'Only if it is absolutely necessary, master,' she winked. 'I remember what you taught me.'

He smiled at her and squeezed her arm before turning back to the camp to break his fast.

Within a few hours the rest of the troops had awoken, and sat about cleaning weapons and hosting hushed discussions over ragged maps while eating more of the delicious orange goo that Zivo had offered Jaxon the previous evening. Throughout the afternoon, the feelings that had woken Jaxon – and, it seemed, Amely – only grew, and Jaxon sensed that wherever Zivo had intended to take his column today, they would likely not reach it in one piece.

As the sun cleared the midpoint in the sky, Zivo held an officer's briefing in his tent which lasted a half-hour. Jaxon found Amely once again cleaning out the dirt and mud from R1. He sat down beside her and wiped the sweat from his brow.

'Our mission has failed,' Amely said, to no-one in particular. Jaxon frowned at her, but remained silent. 'Only the _Serendipity_ had the cargo we needed to see it through – now she's gone.' Jaxon could sense the turmoil within her, running deeper than the deep furrow on her brow. She was clearly upset.

'Clear your mind,' he instructed coolly. 'We must be prepared for whatever is to come today. Do not dwell on what could have been; think instead on what is still to be.'

Amely pursed her lips as she finished cleaning out R1. 'Understood, master.' She wiped her brow, spreading dark oil over her face. 'I'll be ready.' And she stood up, and walked out of sight. Jaxon knew better than to follow her.

'Young people...' he muttered with a roll of his eyes to R1, who just beeped and whistled in response.

By the time the column finally got on the move, coming down from the mountain and through a pass that cut through the range to yet more jungle on the other side, Jaxon was starting to feel uneasy. He could sense unseen eyes watching them as they moved, he could feel the presence of violent hearts stalking their every footstep as they pressed deeper and deeper into what seemed to be the beating heart of the jungle. More worrying, though, was how blind to it Zivo and his troops seemed – for self-professed soldiers, they seemed entirely unaware that they were being hunted. Jaxon remained close to Amely as they marched, feeling more confident having her at his side than one of the "liberators."

As the sun began to bleed into the blue sky and turn it a deep shade of orange, Zivo gave the order to drop packs and rest. Many of the troops were grateful and immediately hit the ground, breaking out canteens and energy snacks, chatting in happy, carefree voices with their comrades. Amely did not share in their relief.

'Do you feel that?' she said quietly to Jaxon, keen eyes surveying the treeline around them.

'Yes.'

'Most of these men will not leave this clearing alive,' Amely's voice was a mere croak, and Jaxon could sense the emotion churning within her.

'Eat something,' he instructed, trying to take her mind off it. 'Keep your strength up.'

'I will,' she replied gratefully, 'I just need to go first.'

Jaxon nodded and watched as Amely picked her way through the plantation, disappearing out of sight a mere few metres from where he stood. He watched the space she had disappeared, lost in thought for a moment – until he sensed Zivo coming up behind him.

'How goes it, Jedi?' the Commandant said with a grin. Jaxon noted that he was an awfully cheerful man for someone dedicated to overthrowing a government. 'We are not long for our destination now, I assure you. This march will be over soon.'

'And just what is our destination, exactly?'

Zivo smiled. 'The government's forces of oppression have a military base in this region; from it they have control of the entire jungle, and can repress the people of this area for miles around. We are going to liberate it, and kill any government soldiers who refuse to surrender.'

'And this is the final step of your grand campaign?'

'This is the _first_ step,' Zivo corrected. 'When the people see that the government is not invincible, they will rise up against their oppressors. We shall flow like a tidal wave into the capital and bring the government crashing down. Xyxotl will be free.'

'Has it ever occurred to you how many innocent people may die as a result of your revolution?'

For the first time, Zivo frowned, and Jaxon could detect a flash of anger behind those boyish brown eyes. Clearly, he was not a man used to being challenged. 'No revolution is without bloodshed,' he said at length. 'Those who give their lives for freedom shall be remembered as glorious martyrs to a far greater cause.'

Jaxon could already sense that Zivo had no intention of himself becoming a "glorious martyr" to his great clause, but before he could respond, something stopped him. It was the faintest whisper at first, but then it overwhelmed him, the Force guiding him away from this conversation, a blinding white glare in his mind.

Amely was in danger.

Without saying another word to Zivo, Jaxon dashed through the undergrowth, following his feelings, trying to zone in on Amely. He could feel the fearful flutter of her heart, the rapidness of her breathing, the quickening of her pulse. Jaxon ground his teeth as he ran. _Remember your training_! He willed her. _Do not give in to fear; be calm of mind and spirit, ever mindful of your emotions_. He burst through a netting of low trees and instinctively brought his lightsaber up, the tip bursting with blue flame as it activated.

In the clearing he found himself in, he saw the corpse of some great mangled four-legged beast, its innards strewn around the litter of leaves and sticks on the floor. By it, Amely stood, covered in its gore, the green blade of her lightsaber matching the colour of her eyes. She was sucking in deep breaths, trying to calm herself, still gripping the lightsaber in a guard position. Immediately relaxing, Jaxon lowered his blade.

'An acklay,' Amely gasped through deep breaths. 'It came out of the wilderness while I was...while I was here...I barely had time to reach my lightsaber...' She lowered her guard and shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head as she tried to dispel the negative feelings Jaxon could sense within her.

With the immediate threat dispatched, Jaxon switched off his own lightsaber and took a few steps towards her. 'You did well,' he told her, 'this was your first time in actual combat – and you were caught off guard. You did very well.'

'Yes, but, I should have been mindful of the living Force. It would have told me to expect danger,' her blade still hummed in her hand. She kept it activated, as if the sound comforted her.

'You name me one Jedi Master who sits on the Council who is mindful of the living Force while they are on the toilet,' Jaxon smirked at her, 'and I will recommend you for the Trials here and now.'

A relieved smile flashed across Amely's face, and she opened her mouth to fire back a retort – but the smile immediately died, and she brought her blade back up on guard next to her face. Jaxon spun around to face the path he had just come through.

'I sense it too,' he said quickly, reactivating his own lightsaber.

'We have to go b—' before Amely finished, an explosion shook the jungle, followed by shouting, screaming and the _zipping_ sound of semi-automatic laser fire. It was an ambush. 'WE HAVE TO GO BACK!' Amely took off at a run towards the sounds of battle, her green blade rocking back and forth as she did.

'Amely, wait!' Jaxon called after her, but she had already disappeared. She had to go back for her beloved R1, he realised, and bit his bottom lip in a moment's uncertainty. _She is too driven by emotion_, he thought to himself. _A Jedi must always be cool and collected; they must never be driven by their emotions. To be out of touch with one's spirit and ruled by whim and petty desire is one of the surest paths to the..._

Jaxon cut the thought off. No. Not Amely. This galaxy was dark enough without him questioning his own apprentice. He picked up his guard and dashed after her, hoping she could defend herself before he caught up with her.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, this is what was supposed to be the second half of Chapter Two, until it grew to be way too long to put into one chapter. I hope splitting them up hasn't slowed the story down too heavily, and I hope you guys are enjoying it. Any and all feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated, and I'll get cracking on chapter four ASAP.

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**CHAPTER THREE**

"**The Wiseman"**

The first explosion cut Zivo's column in two. He had sent a detachment on ahead of the main force to crest the next hill, knowing that the Xyxotl Army base should be visible at the other side. He had tasked the "big man" – Xaven – with securing a forward operating post there in preparation for the eventual assault on the base. No sooner had Xaven and his squad disappeared out of sight, however, and they had triggered a thermal detonator mined to a tree and covered over with leaves and dirt; the blast killed them all instantaneously.

Before Zivo had even realised what was happening, the jungle was ablaze with red laser bursts, and his men were falling all around him, screaming at the flaming laser burns left in their skin as they were shot down. Zivo himself grabbed the nearest rifle out of the clutches of a dead woman in his column whose name he did not know, and returned fire. It was hard to make out the shapes of their assailants in the thick undergrowth, but once or twice he thought he saw alien faces peeking up from natural berms and banks to get a view of the combat. He took pot shots at the ugly features peering down at him, but couldn't say whether his shots found their mark.

Around him, the air hummed with laser bolts blasting back and forth between the two sections of troops – Zivo's liberators and their assailants. The squad began to fall back, slowly backing away down the path they'd come through as more of them were hit and fell to the ground, crying out in agony as the laser rounds cut through them. Their attackers were getting bolder as a result of the guerrillas' slow retreat; Zivo could see them clearly now, moving up from cover in their digital camouflage cloaks and kneeling down on the embankments on either side of the path to take shots from the higher vantage.

Then the attractive younger Jedi, Amely Cora, had exploded through the bush, her green lightsaber flashing and humming with her speed. She cut down a bold red-skinned twi'lek who had rushed forwards towards Zivo and his remaining few men under a hail of covering fire from the embankment behind her, and effortlessly turned to bat a laser bolt that exploded from the bushes after her back at its source. It struck a young Chagrian shooter directly between the horns on his forehead; he hadn't even time to let out a groan before he collapsed dead onto the dirt.

The enemy advance continued as a shower of gunfire made the air around them all sing; Amely fought like a girl possessed, smashing bolts back at the attackers and slicing down anyone who came too close. Twice she found herself overwhelmed and had to push nearby gunmen away using the Force to give herself room to breathe. Zivo could not believe his eyes. What born warriors these Jedi Knights were! She stood alone against a force more than triple Zivo's entire column in number, and yet from the expression on her face she could have been content and asleep at home in the arms of a lover. She showed no sign of combat stress.

Had Zivo been more focused on what was going on, and not just the beautiful young Jedi Knight holding off an entire squad of ambushers, he would have noticed the hot sensation on his forehead as the infrared dot was trained on him. Had he had the slightest semblance of military training he would have known to stay behind cover, where it was safe, until a base of fire could be set up to suppress the enemy position. Zivo was neither a military genius, however, nor very aware of his immediate surroundings.

He hadn't even realised he was dead as the sniper round exploded through his skull faster than the speed of sound, leaving his eyes wide open and his corpse flashing his trademark broad smile. Seeing their leader slain, what remained of Zivo's column dropped their weapons and turned to run – within seconds they were gunned down by their ambushers and left to bleed out in the jungle.

Jaxon Karr saw everything in slow motion as he exploded through the undergrowth to rejoin his young apprentice. She was surrounded; by now the last of Zivo's warriors had been killed, and Amely had given up her flank. The Force slowed everything down to a crawl for Jaxon as he dove through the bushes to reach her. Some alien he did not recognise was advancing behind her, taking advantage of her preoccupation with the shooters in front of her to line up a clear shot. Jaxon's arrival had been noticed by a masked woman standing on the embankment, who was turning her rifle towards him. There was a flash of green as Amely cut down another attacker, sending a bloody mist up into the pleasant evening air in a spurt of red.

Jaxon focused on the man behind Amely – he drove the blue tip of his blade through the man's stomach, seeing his features contort in agony as it burned through armour and cloth and flesh and blood. He did not dwell on that man's death; he whipped his lightsaber around just in time to catch the round fired by the masked woman; it ricocheted off the saber's blade and smacked her right in the hip. She cried out and toppled off the embankment, dropping her weapon as she did so.

'Ceasefire!' a voice called out, 'by the Ancients, hold your fire!' To Jaxon's relief, the command was obeyed nearly instantly, and the red flashes disappeared from the air around them so that the only sound was the hum of the two Jedi's lightsabers, blue and green as they stood back-to-back and circled, slowly, eyeing up the dozen or so enemy fighters who still remained alive.

'Nice of you to join me, master,' Amely muttered.

'I couldn't very well let you have all the fun,' Jaxon replied. 'Did you find R1?'

Amely stammered. 'H-he was hit,' she said, 'behind that rock somewhere.'

As they spun, Jaxon caught a view of the rock in question; yes, now that it had been pointed out to him he could sense R1 behind it, systems shut down. Amely would take it hard if he could not be repaired, Jaxon thought grimly.

'At ease, men, lower your weapons.' From the direction in which Xaven and his men had left through, a tall Kel Dorian stepped forwards in the same digital camouflage as his men, blaster rifle hanging from his hip. His skin was the colour of the orange sky, and the spiked breathing mask his race wore over their mouths gave him quite a frightening look as he stood there with a small platoon at his command. 'Did it ever occur to you,' he spoke in a very measured, controlled tone to someone Jaxon could not see, 'that the objective of this delicately-planned interception was to apprehend the Commandant alive and unharmed?'

By his side, another female twi'lek appeared, shouldering a long sniper rifle. She grinned darkly. 'I shoot to kill,' she said in a hushed voice, 'I don't take prisoners. Especially not scum like the Commandant.'

'Oh, the folly of youth,' the Kel Dorian said to no-one in particular, before turning his attention to the two Jedi. 'Ahh! What irony does serendipity bring?' he chanted as he eyed up both of them. 'Neither myself nor my men mean you any harm, good Jedi – would that you would put up your fearsome weapons and let us speak, I would guarantee, absolutely, your safety at the hands of me and mine.'

Jaxon hesitated for just a moment, but there was no lying in the well-spoken Kel Dorian. With a nod of his head, he disengaged his lightsaber's kill switch and replaced it in his belt. Next to him, Amely's saber still glowed green, buzzing angrily in her hands.

'They shot Boxy!' she spat, glowering at the assembled aliens around her. 'They tried to kill _me_, master! Don't listen to him!'

'An unfortunate misunderstanding,' the Kel Dorian bowed his head, 'one that no surfeit of apologetic intention could ever hope to repay. I fear I must throw myself down upon your mercy, young Jedi, and beg of you your forgiveness. With such travelling companions as these,' he motioned around the small clearing at the bodies of Zivo's men, 'we had quite mistaken you as a member of the death squads.'

'Liar!' Amely shouted, and Jaxon nearly recoiled at the fire of anger that he could sense boiling up inside of her. He had to contain this situation, quickly.

'Search your feelings, padawan!' he urged quietly, 'search your heart. You know what he speaks to be true. If they meant us harm they would have shot me down the moment I lowered my weapon.'

Amely's features gradually softened, and Jaxon felt the anger in her begin to abate – though she did not lower her blade. 'You shot my droid!' she said defiantly, gazing around at the strange faces surrounding them.

'And we can repair your droid,' the Kel Dorian answered calmly, 'all it would require is your approval and trust.' Amely was silent for a few seconds, but then, with a swishing sound, she disengaged her kill switch. The green light died, and silence descended over the jungle. 'Thank you, my lady,' the Kel Dorian bowed his head, then turned to the twi'lek next to him and calmly relayed an order to her in the Akashan language. She nodded, and gestured at two of the assembled troops to gather up R1 and start to carry him.

'My name is Sela Norr, and I lead this motley band of scoundrels, brigands and rebels,' the Kel Dorian said as his men collected weapons and supplies from the dead strewn around the battlefield.

'I am Jaxon Karr,' Jaxon answered firmly, relaxing as he sensed the alien's kind intentions in his heart, 'and this is my apprentice Amely Cora. Our ship crash-landed on your planet and...' Jaxon gazed around him at the soldiers, living and dead, '...we are not quite sure what we have gotten ourselves into.'

'A Jedi and his apprentice, no less,' Sela Norr nodded slowly. 'These days it is not advisable for Jedi to go wandering outside the core systems, I would think. Especially not as deep as Akasha. You were lucky we found you when we did, Master Karr, or who knows what may have befallen you.' Sela Norr paused for a moment, thinking, and then nodded his head as he seemed to come to a decision. 'There is a small commune not too far from here,' he said, 'where we intend to make our next destination. You are more than welcome to follow along, rest and resupply there, and then decide upon your next move from a position of comfort.' Jaxon weighed up the offer; with the _Serendipity_ gone, he had no way off this planet for the time being. Marching around for two days with Zivo and his men had not done himself or Amely any good; and now they needed to repair R1. It seemed the best option.

'We shall go with you,' Jaxon decided. Sela Norr bowed his head, and gave some more orders in their native tongue. The troops finished stripping the dead and fell into a column, with the twi'lek sniper at its head, and began to move out from their ambush site, following the trail Zivo's men had been following. Their chatter was energetic and carefree; the happy banter of a victorious party heading home. Next to Jaxon as they walked, Amely was silent, seemingly distraught over R1's fate. He had not realised until the ambush just how much he cared about Amely; when he'd sensed that she may have been in danger, during his conversation with Zivo, he had been surprised at just how afraid he'd felt. Now, seeing her okay, and bursting with pride at how she'd handled herself in the firefight, Jaxon put his arm around her shoulders. They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

'I think Boxy is being carried at the back of the column,' she said in a tone that sounded more like a question than a statement of fact. Jaxon smiled.

'Go,' he said, 'tend to your droid. Your _old_ master will be fine here by himself.'

Amely smiled and wiped dirt off her cheek, then doubled back down the column to find her Boxy. Jaxon folded his hands into his robes as he walked on alone, taking gentle, deep breaths. The Force flowed around him, through every living being in that jungle, calming him, soothing him and, he hoped, doing the same for young Amely. It was not the greatest of first missions, Jaxon thought to himself – crashing on a strange planet and being captured for all intents and purposes by two opposing bands of warriors did not make things easy on a young Jedi. But she was handling herself far better than Jaxon would ever have given her credit for, and for that he could take pride.

He sensed Sela Norr approaching him from behind, and turned to bow his head respectfully at the graceful Kel Dorian. Sela Norr walked beside him, upright and with his hands clasped behind his back, thinking before he spoke.

'I feel I have been remiss in my host's duty of courtesy,' he said by way of apology, 'my men engaged you in a firefight, endangering both you and your fierce young student, and I have not deemed fit to offer you an explanation for my incorrigible actions.'

'Even Jedi are not infallible,' Jaxon replied, stepping over a large root which stuck up from the ground in front of him, 'we sometimes make mistakes too. We certainly were not being held by...the Commandant's...men against our will. I do not blame your men for opening fire as they did, given the fog of war surrounding our true identities.'

'You have patience and understanding beyond conventional wisdom. I applaud you, master Jedi,' Sela Norr said. 'Our interdiction of Zivo's host was too precarious an operation to risk by checking our targets; when his advance party triggered that mine, we were fully committed. Anything in our crosshairs was declared hostile.'

'I sense that you do not work for the local government,' Jaxon scrunched up his brow as he searched for the answer, 'but yet you oppose Zivo and his band of rebels. Why?'

Next to him, Jaxon heard Sela Norr sigh deeply. 'No doubt Zivo would have told you of his glorious Xyxotl National Liberation Army and their crusade against the government. He is something of a hero amongst the downtrodden of these parts, the poor souls who work the mines of this country without ever hoping to leave. What he doesn't freely admit to is that the _non-humans _of Xyxotl know his men by another name – the death squads. They are an all-human group who travel from village to village, mining complex to mining complex, recruiting humans to fight for their cause and massacring any non-humans they encounter. Zivo and his men believe Xyxotl – and Akasha at large – should be left to the humans, and to them alone.'

Jaxon shivered. 'Then that is why most of your own men are aliens,' he nodded his head. 'I mean...non-humans.'

'Exactly. Mine are orphans, widows, childless parents, all victims of the death squads. We fight to defend the helpless against the Xyxotl National Liberation Army and show the people of this nation that they need not live in fear; not from the government or from the death squads. Zivo was their second-in-command – now, he is gone. I suspect losing their icon may make the rest of them far more desperate. And that is good. In time, they shall come out of hiding. And we will be ready for them.'

'I sense the truth in what you say,' Jaxon said softly. 'Zivo smiled and his eyes danced, but his heart did not reflect the light on his face. In you, I sense something different. I believe your cause is just, Sela Norr.'

'It warms my heart to hear you say such a thing, master Jedi,' Sela Norr put a hand on his shoulder, but before he could speak, they were approached by another soldier – this one, Jaxon noted with interest, a human.

'Sir, we have received a transmission from Fireteam Echo, they're waiting to relay their findings.'

Jaxon realised that, while he was speaking to Sela Norr, they had approached the village that would serve as their encampment for the night – the soldiers of Sela Norr's band had broken apart to meet smiling lovers or lift laughing children into the air, spinning them around in the evening sky. Cauldrons bubbled out in the open air as old women cooked food for the returning rebels, and watchmen sitting upon hut roofs casually saluted their comrades and traded barbs with them, cradling weapons all the while.

'Very good, Rila, thank you,' Sela Norr replied to the human, who saluted and disappeared again. 'Are you hungry?' Jaxon had not realised it, but, he was starving. He said as much. 'Good, so am I. My men in the field can wait a little longer – let us eat together.'

With a final look to ensure Amely was okay – she was talking excitedly with a trio of mechanics who had already gotten to work unscrewing R1 to survey the damage – Jaxon followed Sela Norr under the canopy of a nearby roof, where an old woman doled out a wonderfully-smelling stew to them both.

'Ahh, thank you, Shell, your cooking makes any trek through the jungle worthwhile,' Sela Norr complimented her as he took his first taste. She just blushed and waved him away, and, eyes smiling, Sela Norr turned back to Jaxon. 'So what brought you this far away from the core, and what still stands of your unfortunate Republic, master Jedi?'

Unlike in Zivo's tent, Jaxon felt more at ease around Sela Norr. He was happy to oblige the kind-hearted Kel Dorian. 'My apprentice and I were transporting medical supplies to a Jedi-held spacestation somewhere in Imperial space,' he answered honestly. 'The last reports we heard from it was that there had been an outbreak aboard the station. Our supplies were believed to be sufficient to contain it and save those who were infected.'

'The plague is a bitter foe, even for a Jedi,' Sela Norr shook his head, visibly saddened.

'You know of the Candorian plague?' Jaxon was surprised.

Sela Norr nodded. 'It has all but wiped out an entire continent of Akasha; Seliquara, one of the Four Great Nations, has shut down all its ports and barred entry for anyone into its territories. The plague has decimated its population.' He sighed. 'Four out of every five families has lost somebody. It is a horror beyond reckoning.'

'There were rumours that an Imperial sympathiser may have snuck a sample aboard to empty it, so that they could claim it for themselves...' Jaxon shook his head and finished off his bowl, '...whatever the truth of it, it makes little difference now.' He coughed into his hand. 'We were betrayed; our helmsman shot, systems destroyed and lifeboats jettisoned, all so our mission would fail.'

'Lifeboats, you say?' Sela Norr had suddenly stood up straight, dropping his spoon into his bowl.

'What of them?' Jaxon sense his sudden alertness.

'My men were not fast enough to reach the wreckage of your ship before Zivo's death squad,' Sela Norr said hurriedly, 'though we have been tracking a single lifeboat that fell to Akasha showing lifesigns aboard. I sent one of my best units to track down the survivor.'

Jaxon could not believe his ears. That survivor was the _Serendipity_'s traitor, he was certain of it. 'You must take me to him!'

Sela Norr stood, his meal unfinished. 'Come; my team is waiting to report on their findings. Let us learn the truth of this turncloak.'

Jaxon followed him out from underneath the canopy and across the dusty street of the town, almost empty now as parents collected their children and ordered them to come indoors as the sun set, turning the sky a blood red colour. They went up the stairs of a sandy-coloured building, the roof of which had been converted into a command post, a camouflaged netting draped over the top of it to give the people there some cover. In the centre of the set-up was a simple-looking and outdated communication system, which Sela Norr crossed to now.

'Is Fireteam Echo still on the net?' he asked the operator, a lightly coloured wookie, crossbow lying across his lap. The wookie growled and nodded his head. Sela Norr took control of the comm system. 'Fireteam Echo, Fireteam Echo,' he said loudly and clearly into the receiver, 'this is home base, standing by to receive, over.'

There was a crackling sound, and Jaxon waited with baited breath for the squad's news of the third _Serendipity_ survivor. At length, there was a response from the other side. 'Home base, home base, this is Fireteam Echo. We have shadowed target as ordered, but have cut off pursuit at the mouth of the Valley of Night. Awaiting further orders while we send in recon droids to keep a tab on our target – single human male, no further details at this time, over.'

Jaxon could immediately sense the mood in the small command post sour. All over, people turned their heads to Sela Norr, faces growing long in reaction to something the radio operator had said. Jaxon suddenly felt uneasy again. He glanced at Sela Norr, who did not return the look.

'Fireteam Echo, say again, all after "pursuit," over.'

'Fireteam Echo has called off pursuit of target at the mouth of the Valley of Night and is standing by for further orders while we send in recon droids to keep a track of the target. Be advised, target is a single human male but there are no further details to offer at this time, over.'

Sela Norr lowered the receiver and winced his eyes shut. Around the command post, officers shared dark looks, and a few murmured quietly to each other. Jaxon waited for something to happen. Eventually, Sela Norr brought the receiver back up to his breathing mask. 'Call off your droids, Fireteam Echo; if target is in the Valley of Night he's only after one thing. Return to base, I say again, return to base. Over and out.' Sela Norr replaced the receiver and thanked the wookie sullenly, who barely purred in response. The mood in the command post had darkened irrevocably, and Jaxon didn't like being left out of what everyone else seemed to be thinking.

'What's wrong?' he asked, 'what's the matter?'

Sela Norr did not meet his gaze at first. 'Alas, master Jedi...the pursuit of your betrayer is beyond my talents to aid you with. This is where we must part ways.' He finally looked at Jaxon, and the cold look in his eyes turned Jaxon's blood to ice. 'You are welcome to convalesce here; our food and supplies are entirely at your disposal.' He got up to leave the command post. Jaxon stood in his way.

'Hang on a minute,' he put up his hand to block Sela Norr's path, 'you're not telling me anything I need to know. Where is this Valley of Night? Why won't you help me track down this guy?'

Sela Norr didn't meet Jaxon Karr's gaze again. 'If you will not be swayed from pursuing this renegade human into the Valley of Night,' he whispered bitterly, 'then go and seek the Wiseman. He makes his home in the old library at the edge of town.' And with that he left Jaxon standing in the centre of the command post, stupefied, the other officers around him trying likewise not to meet his gaze.

Jaxon found Amely a few minutes later, chatting to a young boy in one of the open-air cookshops while wolfing down a bowl of stew hungrily. She ruffled the child's hair and sent him on his way as Jaxon approached. He asked her how R1 was, and she replied that the mechanics said he would be fine, they just needed time to track down replacement parts for him and bring him back online. She was no longer worried about her droid, Jaxon sensed, and that was good. Sela Norr's reaction in the command post had unnerved him, and something told him he would need Amely at full focus by his side if they were to track down their traitor in the Valley of Night. Jaxon relayed the strange encounter in the command post to her, and she nodded in recognition at Sela Norr's mention of "the Wiseman."

'The locals told me about him,' she explained when Jaxon had raised his eyebrow in inquisition. 'They said it was likely we would be speaking to him before leaving here again. They say he used to be a Jedi Knight.' Her green eyes twinkled in the twilight as she spoke.

'Is that so?' Jaxon was surprised; an uncharted planet deep in Imperial space was not where he'd expected to find a Jedi.

'The locals seemed to believe it,' Amely nodded, 'I could sense no lying in them.'

Jaxon sighed deeply, unsure as of yet what to make of any of this. 'I will go and see the Wiseman,' he decided at last. 'After that we'll strike out into this "Valley of Night" and locate our missing traitor, maybe get something in the way of a few answers as well.'

` Amely nodded. 'The Kel Dorian's men have given us lodgings for the night,' she beckoned with her head to a building across the road. 'Top floor, one room, but better than a bunk in a medical ship,' she smiled weakly. 'I suppose if you're going to see this Wiseman, I'll turn in. I have an early start in the morning.' Jaxon could sense that her thoughts had turned once again to her droid. He nodded his head.

'Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I will tell you how it goes in the morning.'

'Until morning, then,' Amely stood to leave.

'Until morning.'

'Oh...Master Jaxon?' she paused halfway out of the canopy.

'Yes?'

'May the Force be with you.'

Jaxon smiled thinly at her as she walked away, though inside he was not sure what to make of her well-wishes. He was only going to speak to a town elder, after all. Or was it that she could sense his uncertainty and confusion? Had she sensed the mood in the command post earlier? As Jaxon made for the edges of town, he steeled himself with the knowledge that, one way or the other, he would soon at least understand why everyone was reacting so strangely to news of this survivor.

The library at the edge of town was dilapidated. Its sign had long since fallen off and the decorative lights ringing the outside of it were no longer working. It was fully dark by the time Jaxon reached it, and he had to fumble for the slide latch to open the front door, which no longer had a generator to power it. Inside he found the archives empty – broken and deactivated computer terminals that were no longer any use to anyone. Old signs and posters littered the walls written in Akashan, and a small counter complete with a long-since shut down computer terminal sat in one corner. This hall had once been lit up with life, Jaxon thought to himself – children and adults hungry to learn would sit at these desks while computer screens lit up like blue suns, sharing their information with the world. Now they were deactivated and all but forgotten by the locals, except in the legends of this Wiseman.

_Where was he_? Jaxon asked himself. The library was deserted, and by the looks of things had been for some time. He cleared his mind, focusing his energies on the living Force all around the room. _Not deserted_. _There was something here. Underneath_. He turned his attention to one of the archive shelves on the far wall; the only one with none of the records broken or missing. _It's fake_, a voice told him. Jaxon reached out his hand, feeling the Force connecting the shelf to his own energy, and guided it across – at his command, the shelf slid across the wall, revealing a dark hollow space behind it. Jaxon smiled at his small victory – a secret passageway! How novel, he thought to himself.

He approached it, and found that inside was a staircase leading down through the darkness, to what looked to be a flickering yellow light at the far end. Jaxon followed it down, drumming his fingers nervously on the hilt of his lightsaber that hung by his hip. Something was not right about this place; something was shrouding his perception of the Force. There was something down here.

At last Jaxon came to the end, and found himself in a small circular room with candles burning along alcoves on the wall. In the centre of them, a shrivelled up old human man sat topless with his legs crossed and eyes closed, meditating. In front of him Jaxon saw the focus of his thoughts – an obsidian ball, which floated above the ground, almost level with the man's face. Jaxon stood very still, not wanting to break the man's trancelike state. There was no doubt in his mind that this old man had received some training in the ways of the Force – but the shroud that Jaxon felt draped around the room was like nothing he had ever felt amongst Jedi before. There was something about this old man that made him feel very uncomfortable.

Slowly, the old man's eyes opened, and for an instant Jaxon thought he could see them blaze with yellow fire – but then the illusion was gone, no doubt just a reflection of the candlelight burning around the room. The old man calmly held out a hand and let the obsidian ball drop into it, then replaced it ornamentally atop a starmap reader that stood behind him. The old man stood, now, and Jaxon saw that at his full height he was not much taller than Amely. Spreading out his arms and splaying his legs, the old man waited as a dark cloak, which had lain in a heap somewhere by the far wall, crept into the air of its own accord and glided, ghost-like, across the floor to him, where it draped itself around his shoulders, covering up his bare skin. Now decent once more, the old man sat cross-legged upon the floor again, and, with a gesture, bid Jaxon join him. Jaxon did as he was told.

'A Jedi Knight,' the old man said suddenly in a rasping tone that sent a shiver down Jaxon's spine. 'A Jedi Knight has not walked on Akasha since...' the man's eyes blazed with that yellow fire again for a moment, but Jaxon convinced himself it was a trick of the dim light, '...not for a very long time, at any rate,' he gave a cackling half-laugh half-cough. 'Tell me, Jaxon Karr, what brings you before me at this late hour?'

'How did you know my name...?'

'The Force speaks to me,' the man rasped, 'speaks to me in ways that you cannot even begin to imagine. But you did not seek me out for knowledge – you are a Jedi! Who is more knowledgeable in the ways of the Force than you, hmm?' the Wiseman gave a cackling laugh that seemed to Jaxon as if he was mocking him. 'So tell me what brings you to me. Even I cannot read thoughts.'

Jaxon cleared his throat nervously. His inability to tap into the Force to get a reading on this man was greatly unnerving him, but he fought to keep his thoughts under control. 'My young apprentice and I were betrayed and left for dead by a crewman serving aboard our ship,' he answered calmly and confidently. 'Sela Norr sent a party to track down the traitor, but they broke off their pursuit at some place called the Valley of Night. Sela Norr would not send them any further, and refused to explain his position on the matter. Instead, he sent me here...' at his point, Jaxon lost a bit of confidence in what he was saying, and his voice wavered and lost its lustre. 'I suppose...I suppose he meant for you to explain his reasoning to me.'

Upon hearing this, the Wiseman's eyes went wide, and he stood up slowly, crossing the room to a bust up against the wall on the left, shadowed by the dim light so that Jaxon could not make it out. He placed his hand upon it, and sighed, a deep, rattling sound as if his lungs were encrusted with rust.

'And you see for yourself no other path, but to follow this traitor into the Valley of Night?' he asked at length.

'I need answers,' Jaxon said stubbornly, 'I need to know _why_ he betrayed us and left his own crew for dead, myself and my padawan learner along with them. All I need from you is where in this valley he could possibly be headed.'

The Wiseman cracked a toothless smile, and he looked at Jaxon. This time, Jaxon was sure his eyes were ablaze with fire, and the look frightened him. 'Jedi,' he said slowly, 'there is only but one place in the entire Valley of Night your traitor is headed. For alone in the heart of the great jungles of Xyxotl, not a single plant, nor beast, nor insect, thrives within its boundaries. Alone amongst all the villages and towns and great sprawling cities of Akasha, not a single settlement has ever taken root in its cold embrace. Your traitor seeks the Valley of Night because he knows what lies at its heart.' The Wiseman left the bust and crossed back into the centre of the room, where the obsidian ball lay upon the star map. 'He seeks out the Temple of Kyros.'

'The Temple of...Kyros?' Jaxon repeated the words slowly. 'Is he some sort of god?'

Again came the cackling, wheezing laugh. 'A god, yes! And worshipped as such for many years by the Akashans. After his death there followed a great civil war between his followers to decide who would take up his mantle. A god, yes, known as nothing else to these Akashans, who have all forgotten. For there comes a stage when history becomes mythology; and then who is to say what really was or was not? Yes; the Akashans revered Kyros as a god, and built a temple to honour his immortal soul. You, however, know his kind by another name.' The Wiseman paused.

'You call them Sith.'

Jaxon felt his hair stand on end and his heart miss a beat in his chest. 'There is a Sith temple on Akasha...'

'And it has dominated the Valley of Night for over 4000 years,' the Wiseman cut him off. 'And now a traitor, who would kill his own crew and incur the pursuit of two Jedi Knights seeks refuge there – as if there is any to be had within that infernal valley. Do you see now why Sela Norr would not commit his own men to this pursuit? And do you still feel in your heart determined to go after him?'

Jaxon swallowed hard. Feeling disconnected from the Force as he was in this strange little room, he felt extremely vulnerable and unsure of his own abilities. But he couldn't let that sway him. Things were moving forwards now as if destiny was willing it – he knew what he had to do.

'I do,' he answered sternly. 'I will go into this Valley of Night and find the Temple of Kyros – and there, I will confront this traitor and learn for myself what has driven him to act as he has.'

The Wiseman dropped his gaze, and as he did so, all the candles in the room went out at once with an eerie _hiss_.

'Then you walk alone, Jedi, for no Akashan may ever set foot inside Kyros' great temple.'

'I will not be alone,' Jaxon replied as he stood in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"**The Temple of Kyros"**

The air was thick and heavy with humidity as night descended over the jungles of Xyxotl. Two silver medallions of moons beamed down over the Ernuvian Basin, the heartlands of the jungle that government strategists had labelled the "backdoor into Meztec City," the capital of the Xyxotl Nation. They had only one military base in the entire region, and all reports indicated that the death squads intended to strike at it within the week. For this reason, Air Command had doubled-down on patrols, sending entire wings of gunships stalking through the air, day and night, around the Ernuvian Basin, their bright searchlights lighting up the jungle canopy beneath them like flashes of lightning.

Beneath the cold white caress of the beams, and the low, ominous humming of the gunships' engines, nocturnal and diurnal life, confused as to the time of day, engaged each other in an unnatural display of mortal combat. A great lumbersome nexu, woken by the bright lights and loud noises, stalked one of the legendary wolfcats that were native to Akasha and the jungles of Xyxotl in particular. A nocturnal creature, the wolfcat had left its den to hunt for its brood, before being blinded and sent into a confused frenzy by the gunships passing overhead. It had lost its way, and was now wandering aimlessly through the night, trying to make its way home, its adrenaline-fuelled fear releasing nervous pheromones into the warm night-time air. A dinner-bell for larger predators.

The nexu could smell its prey, though it could not see it – its eyes were not used to the dark; in its mind, it was not sure why it was awake, why pale suns continued to pass overhead, roaring with vengeance as they did so. But it knew it was hungry; and it knew this wolfcat was afraid and alone. Another white sun passed overheard, and the cry it made as it did shook the earth beneath the nexu's paws. The nexu crouched down instinctively, muscles rippling along its striped back. It could sense its prey's confusion; the wolfcat was being driven mad by the sounds and lights around it, and had bent back its head to let out a mournful howl into the night, desperate to locate its pride. The nexu's wide mouth watered, and it snickered quietly in the bush, its jagged teeth flashing under the gunship's beam. It arched its back, going down on its front paws, ready to pounce and claim the kill for itself –

The nexu's eyes were not used to the dark. Added to that, it was temporarily deafened by the roar of the gunship's engine overhead, and so focused was it on the strong pheromone trail left by the wolfcat, all of its senses were numb to the ackay that had come up beside it, another animal driven half-crazed by the roar of machines overhead. With one vicious slice, the ackay crushed the nexu under a sharp claw. The nexu tried to cry out, but a second claw smashed down and crushed its skull. As the gunship disappeared into the distance, the ackay gave a shrill scream before bowing its head and tearing out a great hunk of flesh from its slain prey.

For all the desperation of the Xyxotl military establishment, urgently trying to secure the Ernuvian Basin to disallow rebel forces to slip through, their gunship pilots refused to fly into the black heart of the region. Officers from the cities called it pathetic local superstition; but even they didn't give orders asking their pilots to fly through the barren Valley of Night. They could figure, if trained and educated Air Command flight officers wouldn't fly through the valley in gunships, that the local up-jumped peasantry would hardly walk through it on foot. They wrote the zone off as strategically irrelevant, and continued their counter-insurgency campaign in wilful ignorance.

For the two Jedi Knights who had just crossed out of the treeline into the wasteland of the Valley of Night, military gunships passing overhead may have provided some solace in the dark. It was almost unbelievable, Jaxon thought to himself as they stopped to get their bearings. One minute they had been covered in jungle foliage, barely able to see a few feet ahead of them in the dark – the next, nothing but wide open expanse, the night sky laid bare in a beautiful myriad of colours above them. It was like nothing Jaxon had ever seen before. The entire valley was simply _dead_; not a single tuft of grass grew nor bird took flight across the starry sky. As they walked, the ground spat up small whirls of ash as if a fire had just recently been raging along the entire area. It was unnerving, and Jaxon felt extremely naked with only the stars above their heads in this forlorn valley.

'I have a bad feeling about this,' Amely whispered next to him, eyes wide to peer through the darkness.

'This place is strong with the Dark Side,' Jaxon agreed, for once not correcting his young padawan for not minding her thoughts. 'The Wiseman said once we reached the valley's mouth, we would know where to find the temple – that the Force would guide us...' he trailed off.

'It's...weird,' Amely said. 'It's like...feeling dread, or foreboding, or being deathly afraid, but its..._tangible_, it's there, like, you can almost taste it on your tongue. I don't want to go on,' she shivered, 'or, at least, that's what the feeling is telling me. Is that what you mean? Is that the Dark Side?'

'It is,' Jaxon nodded, 'I have only felt it once before – and nowhere near this strong. Something tells me it will only get worse as we grow nearer the temple. Come, let's not lose the cover of darkness – we should be able to reach the temple by dawn.'

In the distance, illuminated by the bright moons and the wash of colours in the night sky above their heads, the dark outline of the mountain range they had crossed three days previously was visible scouring the sky. The Valley of Night cut through the range into the jungle on the other side, where they would find the Temple of Kyros, so they had been told.

The walk was eerily silent. They had been so used to the sights and sounds of the jungle since crashing on this strange planet, and now, within the valley, there was nothing. Not a single _insect_ could thrive here, the Wiseman had said. There was nothing at all, just ash and rock and silence. Even the Force seemed stifled in this place. It was a strange feeling to know that, in this entire valley – which stretched on for over a mile – there were only three living beings; and one of them had betrayed the other two and left them for dead. Jaxon shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders – what madness had inspired the traitor to seek refuge in a place such as this?

As they walked on, Jaxon became acutely aware of Amely's blank silence. Usually he could sense her mood, and prior to crossing from the jungle into the valley he had been aware of the rising trepidation in her heart – now, however, he could feel nothing from her. He tried speaking with her, joking to alleviate the mood, or asking about R1 (who had still been under repair when they had left the town that day), but she just replied in simple, one-word answers or grunts. Jaxon started to grow uneasy at her mood. Was it a mistake to bring her here? Had he misjudged the residual Dark Side energy that would be left in a place dedicated to the memory of an ancient Sith Lord? Was a padawan strong enough and mindful enough of her feelings to shut out the crushing presence of the Dark Side? Was Amely?

Jaxon cleared his thoughts. It would do no good for him to worry about her; he needed his own wits about him before they came across the temple. It could even be that she was simply so focused on steeling herself and her thoughts that she did not want to break concentration by talking with Jaxon. _But she grapples with her emotions even at the best of times_, a voice said in Jaxon's mind, _to do so in a place like this could be fatal_. Jaxon swallowed hard, and put a reassuring arm around Amely. To his surprise, she leaned in to him, and he felt a warm flutter in his heart that he had never experienced before.

There was a sudden loud _CRACK_ of thunder overhead, and Jaxon felt Amely jump in his embrace. There was a blue explosion of lightning that lit up the walls of the valley on either side of them, and suddenly the heavens opened up with rain, sending giant drops smashing towards the ground in a torrential spill. Within seconds the two Jedi were soaked through, and they were dashing for cover inside a small cave in the sheer rockface to their left.

Amely huddled up in one corner, hugging her knees to her chest as she shivered in the bitter cold. The weather had changed almost instantaneously, Jaxon noted, from warm to freezing cold in the time it took for a thunder clap to resound – was that a peculiarity with this planet's climate, or was the Valley of Night actively testing them? Jaxon could not tell which.

He slid the pack Amely had put together before leaving town off her shivering shoulders and fumbled in it, removing bedding and blankets from inside, as well as a thermal heater. He set it down on the floor of the cave and activated it, bathing the interior in a warm orange glow.

'Come closer,' he said to Amely, whose lips, he could see, had turned blue as her hair dripped droplets of water onto the floor. She pushed closer to the light, and reached for a blanket. Jaxon passed her one, and she wrapped herself in it while he lay out the bedding on the hard floor. It would not be ideal, but it would do.

The torrent of rain did not let up for an hour, and Jaxon could see Amely's eyes getting heavy as she started to nod off to sleep. By now her blanket was soaked through as well, and he began to fear she might catch her death of cold unless she changed out of her soaked clothes immediately. He instructed her to do as such, and she obeyed silently, too tired to raise a question. He watched her with concern as she stripped her robes off, leaving only her underwear and her pale, goose pimpled skin bare in the bath of orange light. Jaxon took her blanket in his hands to drape over her, but realised that it, too, had been soaked through, no doubt by her wet hair. He sighed, and placed it along with her clothes in the light of the heater where, with luck, they would be dry by morning. Settling into his makeshift bed, Jaxon folded back a corner of his blanket.

'Come under here with me,' he said quietly, 'you need to keep warm.' Amely nodded sleepily, just glad to have somewhere to lay her head down – they used her pack as their pillow and tucked the blankets tight around them, Amely turning away from Jaxon to face the light. He turned the same way, putting an arm around her cold, trembling belly in an effort to comfort her. She responded to the touch, pushing herself back into him to snuggle up to the warmth of his body. Soon, Jaxon heard her breathing grow steady and knew she had fallen asleep. He smiled hollowly to himself, and too shut his eyes, but found that sleep would not take him.

The uneasy feeling he was getting from the footprint of the Dark Side in this valley was worse now that he was alone. Even the feel of Amely pressed up against him didn't allay his fears. He would start to drift away, amidst the gnawing fear and uncertainty that was plaguing him, and then he would see a shadow move on the cave wall, or hear a whisper close to his ear, and snap awake, afraid and alert, glancing around for the source. _It's nothing_, Jaxon told himself, _your mind is playing tricks on you_. He willed himself to sleep, but he could feel the Dark Side lying heavy and intoxicating in his heart.

He took comfort in Amely. She had warmed up now under the blanket, and her skin was warm and soft, pleasant to the touch. He nuzzled the back of her neck, enjoying the feel of her damp hair against his nose, and let his own breathing slow to match the gentle rising and falling of her belly. Slowly, surely, he started to feel himself drifting back towards sleep, with the touch and smell and warmth of Amely dominant in his thoughts.

He dreamt he was back aboard the _Serendipity_, shortly after their exodus from the Devenmoir System at the start of their ill-fated voyage.

'We are not being pursued,' Captain Lars Deraan informed him, finishing off the mug of Jawa juice in his hand. 'The garrison at Devenmoir has formally surrendered, however. Master Serverus is dead.'

Jaxon thought it was strange for Captain Deraan to be telling him this. He already knew it; he had been there at Devenmoir to see the last stand take place; he had seen his old master struck down by the Sith lord, a wickedly-grinning Chagrian with eyes like ice. He had cried out as the light dimmed in Severus' eyes, and the green blade of his lightsaber retracted, leaving only the red hue from the Sith's to light the darkness. Jaxon's instinct had been to rush in, to fight the Sith, to give in to his anger and get revenge for the brutal slaying of his master...but he had persevered. A Jedi did not seek vengeance. A Jedi did not give in to anger. He had his mission, his master's mission, to complete. The medical supplies had to reach their destination, even if it meant taking a ship through Sith Imperial space to do it. Jaxon did not understand why Lars Deraan was repeating this. But it was a dream, so Jaxon thanked the captain humbly and indicated that he was going to take a shower. It was well-deserved, he thought, after their narrow escape from Devenmoir.

He got up and left the ship's mess, passing a few crewmen whose names he did not know as he went. He slipped into his cabin and sat down on the bed, intending to meditate for a few moments prior to his shower – but then he heard the sound of running water. Turning to the door that led to his bathroom, Jaxon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He stood up and crossed the room, tapping the key on the side of the door – it slid open with a hiss. His eyes went wide with surprise.

'_Amely_?' his voice startled her, and she jumped, and spun around in the shower. Her green eyes were wide, her skin glistening wet, rosy pink from the hot water of the shower. Jaxon felt his mouth go dry. He had never realised what a beautiful..._woman_...young Amely was turning out to be.

She switched off the shower and took a step towards him, entirely unashamed of her nudity. Jaxon was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Suddenly she was up against him, wetting the front of his tunic as she reached out with both hands to take a hold of it.

'What are you doing...?' Jaxon stammered pathetically.

'It's okay, master,' Amely's eyes flashed with girlish desire, 'it's only a dream...' and she leant in slowly, planting a soft and delicious kiss on his lips. To his shame, Jaxon leant in to it, returning it...

...sunlight streamed in through the mouth of the cave.

Jaxon did not even realise he was awake at first. He could still taste Amely on his lips and in his mouth, still feel the dampness of her body on the front of his clothes, and still smell the hot, clean smell of steam rising from the shower. And added to all that, he was pressed up against her, his body betraying the nature of the dream he had just had.

Jaxon froze, momentarily terrified that Amely was awake, and aware. But he quickly zoned in on the sounds of her shallow breathing, and huffed a heavy sigh of relief. She was still asleep; his shame was intact.

Jaxon wriggled out from underneath the blanket, careful to stop and tuck Amely back in when he'd left. She exhaled sleepily, but cuddled up to the blanket and refused to waken. Jaxon stared at her for a few moments; she was a beautiful girl, he thought, but he had always known that – that did not explain the sudden heaviness in the pit of his stomach he felt whenever he thought of her. Turning to the mouth of the cave, Jaxon stepped out into the morning air.

It was a pretty morning with a clear blue sky, the heat and humidity of the previous few days having returned. The freak storm had turned the ash on the ground to black sludge, and Jaxon groaned as we wiped his boot against a nearby rock to clean it. This would dampen the rest of the journey for sure, he thought to himself. Standing with his legs apart, hands clasped behind his back, Jaxon slowly closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He felt the Force – what little of it he could feel in this forsaken place – flowing through and around him, within the rocks of the cave and the ash beneath his feet. He felt one with it, a part of it, a master and commander of it and a humble and obedient servant to it. He meditated for what felt like a half hour, until at last he sensed Amely in the cave behind him awaken. He remained in his state, waiting for her to dress and come out to him. At last, he sensed her approaching from behind.

'Good morning, master Jaxon,' she said sleepily, her voice still devoid of emotion as it had been the night before – this place continued to take its toll on her, he saw. Still, Jaxon was incensed by the sound of her voice, and found it utterly broke his delicate concentration. He opened his eyes and looked at her, and she flashed him a forced smile through her lethargy. Jaxon returned the smile, but it was false, desperate not to betray the fact that he suddenly felt intoxicated by her. _And all due to a stupid dream_? He thought. _What utter folly._ He cleared his thoughts and made his way back into the cave.

'Eat a good breakfast today,' he said to her in a dire tone. 'We will reach the Temple of Kyros by the afternoon; you will need your strength.' Amely nodded understandingly as Jaxon set about deactivating the small thermal heater and replacing it in her pack. They broke out rations the townsfolk had provided them and had their breakfast in silence; Amely, embittered and uneasy within this Valley of Night, and Jaxon, struggling with his own thoughts and feelings that had crept up suddenly and without warning concerning his young apprentice.

When they began to move again, the going was slow, thanks to the rains the previous night. Amely stamped her way through the muck, growling in childlike irritation whenever her boots were bogged down in ash. Jaxon found himself watching her, quietly enjoying the tidbits of her childish nature that still managed to poke through her gloom in this place.

They came upon the temple after an hour's march.

'Look, there!' Amely had said, her voice barely an audible whisper, even in the macabre stillness of the valley. The darkness Jaxon could feel around him had only blackened as they marched on, and by the time they lay eyes on the temple – shrouded from view from a distance by a veil of thick grey smoke that rose from fissures in the ground around it – the feeling of foreboding was almost unbearable. Amely's face was ashen pale, her cheeks hollow and eyes dead. Jaxon found himself now worrying more about her than focusing on the task at hand, and unable to shake off that worry.

They walked through the hot jets of smoke, carefully stepping over the fissures they plumed up from, and stopped dead in their tracks in utter awe at the towering monolith they saw before them.

The temple rose majestically in front of them, a great black pyramid jutting up from the smoking ground like a fist punching the sky. Carefully carved steps crept up the side facing them into a gaping maw flanked by intricately crafted obelisks bearing glyphs Jaxon did not recognise. At the foot of the pyramid, on either side of the steps, two giant hooded statues had been built into alcoves in the side of the temple. As Jaxon approached, he saw that they were so huge his head did not even reach their knees. Amely remained where she stood, gazing up in awe at the giant structure.

'So this is where they bury Sith Lords...' she whispered. Jaxon turned to face her.

'Be mindful of where you are, young padawan. This is a nexus of Dark Side power; I sense that in life this _Kyros_ was more powerful than you or I or anyone now serving on the Council. Sith do not relinquish their powers in death as willingly as Jedi; we must be wary.'

Amely nodded, and moved forwards quickly to close the distance between herself and Jaxon, clearly wanting to be close to her master. He noticed that she had her lightsaber in her hand, and was squeezing tightly on it. Jaxon followed suit, preferring to feel the comforting weight of his hilt to hand. Both armed, both alert, the two Jedi glanced up at the stairs towering above them.

'Shall we?' Jaxon asked.

'After you, master,' for a split second Amely's face showed some of its characteristic brightness, and it warmed Jaxon's heart – but then it was gone again, replaced by her sallow, defeated disposition, and Jaxon took the first step up into the open mouth of the temple, his brow furrowed in worry for the young girl.

Inside, the temple was unnaturally cool for an ancient stone structure built in the heart of a jungle. Jaxon shivered when he took the first step inside, and moments later he heard Amely let out a stifled gasp as she did so too. The feeling of the Dark Side's presence was amplified within the black stone walls of the temple, a deep rhythmic pulse that Jaxon could feel rattling his very bones. He let out a shaking sigh, and urged Amely to stay close.

They walked through a dark antechamber bordered on either side of them by tall statues of the same black stone as the temple. Giant figures, robed and hooded so that their faces were obscured, peered down on them from both sides as they walked underneath their unseen gazes.

'I feel like they're watching us,' Amely whispered. Jaxon gulped, and walked on, eyes falling to the illegible glyphs scrawled on the bases of each. He couldn't read the ancient language, but he could feel the power emanating from each statue.

'These were the followers of Lord Kyros in life,' he muttered, the black stone whispering to him through the Force, 'his favoured apprentices.' Not looking where he was going, he nearly tripped down a flight of stairs that descended into the bowels of the temple; Amely grabbed him, and straightened him up. He thanked her, but she did not respond. Jaxon was about to ask if she was alright, when something stopped him. 'Do you sense that?' he asked in a hush tone. Amely shook her head slowly, lethargically. She was almost entirely disconnected from the Force in this place, Jaxon realised. But there had been no mistaking what he'd felt. 'He's down here. The traitor.'

The two Jedi crept down the stairs in the darkness, hunched low, lightsabers in hand, descending deeper into the centre of the temple. They found themselves in a large room lit by a single gap in the stones in the far wall, casting a shaft of light down onto a raised dais at the back of the room. Jaxon followed the light with his eyes downwards, and felt his insides turn to ice.

There were two portions of the raised dais, the portion closer to the back wall raised higher than the frontal one. On the raised portion there stood a great statue, made of the same black material as the ones from the previous room. It wore torn and tattered robes, and had a deep hood covering much of the face, though not deep enough to cover two large horns that protruded from a forehead somewhere beneath the hood. In its right hand it gripped the hilt of a giant stone lightsaber, and in its left, a human skull. It was a fearsome sight, but somehow not as terrible as the object which lay directly beneath it – a sarcophagus, adorned in glyphs and images showing lightsaber battles, the sunburst sigil of the Sith Empire, and, in the final panel, rows of human beings bowing down to a hooded and horned figure who Jaxon realised, as his legs grew weak beneath him, was Kyros. _This is where the Sith Lord was buried_!

And in front of it all, his back turned to them, a glowing red object somewhere in his hands, a man stood, gazing up at the great icon of the ancient Sith Lord. Amely was suddenly alert again, and she stepped forwards a few paces. There was a bursting sound, and then the room was filled with the green glow from her lightsaber. Jaxon stepped up beside her.

'_Davan_?' she said in disbelief, 'it can't be...not you...'

Hearing his name being called, the man slowly turned around. Jaxon recoiled in horror at the face of who he immediately recognised to be Davan Raan – a junior mechanic aboard the _Serendipity_ – contorted, hideously grinning beneath eyes wild with madness. Jaxon engaged his own lightsaber, merging the green hue of the room with blue, and looked to see what the object was in his hands. Jaxon's heart froze in his chest.

'Amely, get back!' he shouted, instinctively moving to block her from the small pyramid-shaped device gently glowing red that Davan was holding in the palm of both of his hands.

'What is it...?' Amely moved to get around him, to get a glimpse at what Jaxon was so afraid of, 'what's going...' and then she saw it in Davan's hands, and fell silent. 'Oh...in the name of—I don't feel so good...'

'Avert your eyes, padawan,' Jaxon instructed, pointing his saber in Davan's direction. 'You fool! Have you any idea what it is you're holidng?'

Davan gave a haunting cackle that reverberated around the walls of the chamber, making it seem as if there were suddenly many of him, hiding in the shadows. 'Have _you_ any idea what it is I am holding, Jedi?' he rasped, and Jaxon could tell from the inflections in his voice his mind had snapped. He had been driven mad by the Sith holocron he now held in his hands, proudly displaying it like a child finding a shell on a beach.

'Davan...put it down,' Jaxon said, trying his utmost to make his voice gentle, 'put it down, and step over here. It's alright. It's over; we're here to help.'

'But you don't understand,' Davan gave a nervously excited laugh and put his hand up to his mouth as if to titter, 'it didn't work before, but now it does! You see, it _told_ me...it _told_ me what to do; it _whispered things to me_...at first I didn't believe it, nu uh, boxes can't whisper, I said, but it showed me! It showed me I was wrong! And it brought me here...' he gave a sort of whimpering giggle that made Jaxon's hair stand on end. 'I found it! All by myself, I found this place! And now...and now the holocron will unlock, and show its secrets to me...now it will reward me...'

'You...' Jaxon could barely make sense of this, '...you killed the crew...you destroyed the entire ship..._why_?'

'Because it told me to!' Davan said with a beaming grin, as if knowing that Jaxon would understand completely. 'It told me to! And it told me to take it here, and...look! How it glows! I have brought it home!' He turned back and held the shining holocron up to the statue, bathing it and the sarcophagus in its red glow.

Next to Jaxon, Amely had recollected herself, but she was breathing heavily and was not quite stood up straight. Sith holocrons had been known to overpower weaker Jedi merely by their very presence; what it had done to Davan, entirely untrained in the ways of the Force, was to break his mind completely. Jaxon realised that, until he could destroy the holocron, he was alone in this infernal temple.

'There is nothing that box can give you that won't destroy you,' Jaxon stressed. '_Please_, put it down, and step this way. I will not harm you.'

'But this box can give me _everything_!' Davan giggled excitedly. 'The Akashans worshipped Kyros as a god; and when he died, he transferred his very essence into this holocron. The essence of a _god _undone. You cannot _begin to imagine_ the powers stored within it. And all I have to do, is open it...' Davan giggled again.

'That holocron contains the essence of a very ancient, and very powerful, Sith Lord – if you open it, _it will destroy you_, if it hasn't already!' Jaxon shouted, fighting to keep his patience with this maddened space jockey.

'Powerful beyond anything you will ever know, Jedi!' Davan turned back to the two of them and took a faltering step in their direction. Jaxon reached out a grabbed a handful of Amely's tunic, cautiously tugging on her to step back. The closer she was to the device, the weaker she would be. 'Do you know what Akasha was before it was conquered by Lord Kyros? A _backwater_. _Primitive_. _Divided_ by petty political and religious squabbles! The Akashans had not even truly mastered laser technology before the arrival of Lord Kyros! The Sith uplifted the Akashans; they brought them technology, order, _power_. They found a place for Akasha at the heart of their empire, and when Kyros died – _murdered _by Jedi scum! – the people erected this temple to honour his memory.'

'What are you talking about...?'

'It _speaks to me_,' Davan laughed, 'it _tells me_ what I need to know! Where I have to go, and why! And now that I am here...' he gazed longingly at the pyramid in his hands, '...the power of Lord Kyros will be mine!'

Jaxon took a step forwards, his saber humming at his side. He brought it up on guard, the blue flame of his blade tantalisingly close to his face. If he could just get the holocron away from the maddened mechanic, he thought, maybe it would be enough to free his mind...maybe things would be alright. '_Drop it_, Davan. I will not warn you again.'

'_NO_!' Davan roared, and produced a pistol from his belt, pointing it in Jaxon's direction. 'You will not part me from this power! _This is my destiny_!' The features of his face were illuminated by the red glow of the holocron, giving him a dreadful looking sneer. 'I will inherit the power of Lord Kyros; I will rise as a Dark Lord of the Sith to unite Akasha once again, as Kyros' _true_ apprentice! _It is my destiny_!' he repeated.

Jaxon sighed, mind calm now that he had a course of action settled in his mind. 'I tried warning you, Davan Raan,' he said quietly. Then he took a step forwards. Davan pulled the trigger.

Jaxon reacted instinctively, bringing his blade up to cover his face as he heard the _zap_ of a laser blast, but the bolt never met his lightsaber. Instead, he heard a gasp behind him and heard the sound of Amely's lightsaber going dead. He turned, his mind racing, in time to see Amely fall forwards, eyes wide, searching for Jaxon's face in the blue light of his saber. She hit the ground, her hand on her stomach as dark red blood seeped through the gaps between her fingers. Jaxon felt the blood within him boil. _Not Amely_, he thought to himself, _not gutshot, no no no, not like this, never like this_..._not little Amely_..._no...NO_! Jaxon turned to face Davan again, the smile from whose face flickered and vanished in an instant upon seeing the glare the Jedi gave him.

With the Force quickening his pace, Jaxon crossed the room in the blink of an eye, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with a terrified Davan.

'No...please...!' the mechanic had time to gasp before Jaxon lifted his saber and, with a roar that exploded from his belly in a glorious outburst of primal rage, struck Davan's head from his shoulders, decapitating him cleanly in one blow. The holocron dropped from the headless body's limp hands as what remained of Davan fell to its knees, and then collapsed in a pool of blood on the floor. Jaxon switched off his lightsaber and fell to the ground, in a state of disbelief at what he had done.

He had struck a sick man down, in a blind fit of rage, when he could just as easily have helped him. That was not the Jedi way. But then, he had shot Amely – _Amely_ – beautiful, innocent Amely, who Jaxon realised was making his heart feel fit to burst now that he thought of her. He took comfort from the idea that he had exacted a brutal and terrible vengeance on the man who had dared to harm her; the burning hatred flowing through his veins felt...felt _good_. There was _passion_ to anger, there was...there was _power_. Jaxon reached out, and took the holocron in his hand.

He studied it, still gently pulsating with a red glow that seemed to come from within. It was decorated in glyphs of the same language that covered the walls of the temple and sarcophagus, He could feel the power within it, making the box almost vibrate to the touch. He could feel the energy flowing from it through his arm and into his heart. It was intoxicating.

There was a sound from behind him as Amely sucked in a rattling breath. Jaxon turned to look at her, the dark pool of blood around her steadily spreading, and realised as his heart fell that he had no time to waste. He pocketed the holocron and left Davan where he lay in two pieces, then crossed the floor to tend to his apprentice.


	5. Chapter 5

Apologies for the long hiatus; college has started back and I've got sort of side-tracked as far as my Star Wars intake is concerned with reading the Darth Bane trilogy (roughly about halfway through "Dynasty of Evil" now and am thoroughly enjoying it!). This one isn't as long as it should be, solely because, as with chapters II and III, had I covered all the ground I wanted to cover in it it probably would have grown to be way too long. This way, I've cut it just before the action starts up again so I can deal with it all in one fell swoop next time around. Hopefully I'll have the next piece up by Monday. As always, any comments/reviews etc. are greatly appreciated.

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**CHAPTER FIVE**

"**Darkness Falls"**

Jaxon Karr could feel the Dark Side of the Force all around him. It whirled and danced in the corners of the temple, twisting and contorting reality in front of his eyes and playing the emotions in his heart like a cantina musician. Amely's unconscious body felt heavier in his arms than it should have; the route back up the steps out of the burial chamber and through the annex, past the stone eyes of the guardian statues, took far longer than it had just a few minutes prior. Nothing was as it seemed.

Throughout the gloom cast by the shadowy pall of the Dark Side, the scorching fire of anger burned inside Jaxon. Davan's insanity had done this to Amely. His twisted and vain ambition had caused him to shoot Jaxon's young padawan, a girl of no more than 15, innocent; energetic; beautiful...

The Jedi Knight felt something else welling up inside him too as he contemplated the girl's predicament, but he tried to push it back down again. He couldn't entertain even the faintest whisper of the thought that tugged as his emotional consciousness now. _There is no emotion; there is only peace_. The words of the Jedi Code rang out hollowly through Jaxon's mind as he tried to focus his mind on the desperate task at hand.

The Dark Side was strong here; he had tried to wrap Amely in a healing aura of light side Force energy when he reached her side, but his efforts had been in vain, almost as if the long-dead spectre of Lord Kyros was mocking his affections for her from beyond the grave. His only hope, he had decided at length, was to scoop her up into his arms and carry out of the Dark Lord's temple, out of the Valley of Night, and somewhere where the power of the Dark Side could not be felt. There, he would be able to help her.

_Before it was too late_, he thought sullenly as he felt a trickle of warm blood running down the front of his tunic.

'Hang in there, Amely, hang in there...' he heard himself praying through gritted teeth, his heart pounding in his ears, a lump forming in his throat.

Then, at last, they were outside, the light of day turning cool as dusk settled over the barren and ashen Valley of Night. Jaxon sped down the steps, cradling Amely in his arms. At the foot of the great Sith temple, he twisted his neck to and fro to find some quick way out of the valley – some quick way to escape the malevolent energies of the Dark Side.

The first laser bolt caught Jaxon entirely by surprise, and had his shooter been a surer shot it would have surely clipped him right between the eyes, ending his life then and there. It took him all of a second to register the sound of the gunshot ringing out around the valley, place Amely gently down into the black ash at his feet and bring the blue blade of his lightsaber up on guard to deflect two more shots which followed in the wake of the first.

Now that he was paying more attention to the stone valley ahead than looking for a quick way out, Jaxon saw what, in his frantic attempt to save Amely, he had not noticed on his race down the temple steps. A camouflaged landspeeder lay parked a few yards from the steps of the temple, behind which a twi'lek sniper – the same red-skinned girl who had seemingly been Sela Norr's second-in-command, Jaxon noted – had set up, tripod resting on the bonnet of her vehicle.

Reading the expression on the Jedi Knight's face, the attractive twi'lek hesitated, peeking her head up from the scope of her rifle. In an effort to deescalate the situation, Jaxon lowered his guard, letting his saber drop to his side wtih a low _humm_.

'HOLD YOUR FIRE!' he yelled, his voice echoing off the valley walls around them. 'My...my padawan is injured! She needs to be taken to Sela Norr immediately!'

One of the twi'lek's lekku twitched at the mention of the name. 'Sela Norr is dead!' she shouted back, still not taking her hands off the rifle, 'the village was attacked only a few hours after you left – the rest of the group is scattered, returned home, or missing in action.'

Jaxon's heart sank. As if this day couldn't get any worse, he thought; now his one ally on this strange and war-torn planet was dead. He extinguished his lightsaber with a _hiss_ and dropped to his knees by his fallen apprentice. 'She needs your help,' he croaked pathetically, still not able to keep his emotions constrained. '_I_ need your help. Please.'

It was clear from the twi'lek's expression that she had chased down the two Jedi believing them to somehow have been involved in the attack on the village; perhaps, Jaxon surmised, she had assumed they had given away the village's position to government forces the moment they'd left for the Valley of Night. Seeing the state of Amely, and Jaxon's plight, however, she was quickly reassessing the situation. At length, she gave a gesture with her head that said _Hop on, quickly_, and Jaxon obeyed without a moment's hesitation.

The twi'lek helped load Amely gingerly into the back seat of the speeder, then Jaxon jumped into the passenger seat next to her and she fired the engines. As they sped back through the Valley of Night, making for greener pastures, Jaxon could feel the suffocating energies of the Dark Side rescinding into the distance, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the Force flowing back into him again. As soon as they crashed through the tree-line and truly away from the valley, Jaxon reached back and put his hand on Amely's thigh, shutting his eyes and concentrating on surrounding her body in healing energy. It would have to do until they could find help, he thought grimly.

'They arrived only hours after you'd left,' the twi'lek said suddenly, causing Jaxon to open his eyes to look at her. 'I didn't...' she blinked tears from her eyes, '...I didn't know what else to do...it was the only explanation I could come up with...that...'

'...that we'd betrayed you,' Jaxon finished for her.

She took her eyes off their route for just a split second. 'Yes.'

Jaxon sighed heavily, taking his hand off Amely's leg, content that he'd done what he could for her.

'Did you find what you were looking for?' the twi'lek asked, trying to dispel the mood. Jaxon gazed at her, then reached into his pocket, pulling out the tiny stone pyramid that Davan had confirmed as being the holocron of Lord Kyros. He stared at it, twisting and turning it between his fingers, studying it silently for a few moments. 'Is that a relic of the Sith?' the twi'lek inquired.

Jaxon nodded. 'It is the holocron of Lord Kyros; a record of all the knowledge and power he accumulated over his life. They are prized possessions for the Sith, now that the key to creating them has long since been lost to the aeons. This one had driven our former shipmate mad.' A chill ran down Jaxon's spine as he remembered the crazed look in Davan's eyes, the uneven way his voice rose and fell as he babbled incoherently.

'Did you kill him?'

Jaxon froze at the question. He remembered the feeling that had possessed him; seeing Amely go down had filled him with a rage that burned more intensely than anything Jaxon had ever felt before. He had struck down the unarmed man without a moment's hesitation. Jaxon swallowed before replying, 'He was beyond saving.'

He sensed the twi'lek's bright eyes on him, and felt her mood suddenly grow fearful. As he spoke the words, a cloud seemed to pass over the sun, momentarily dipping the jungle around them in a noxious dark that hung heavy and cold in the air, like a winter's fog. Jaxon heard the twi'lek give a shiver, and then the momentary darkness had passed, and the sunlight returned. The twi'lek averted her gaze.

'A Jedi is thought to be compassionate in all things,' Jaxon said automatically, as if trying to reassure her, 'but we are also trained to defend ourselves. Davan was a threat; sometimes you have no choice but to kill. It's the same for any soldier.' At that, the twi'lek seemed to relax. Jaxon could sense her mood ease off, but he turned away from her to gaze thoughtfully out over the side of the speeder. He had been lying, of course; Davan had begged for mercy before the end. He hadn't been any more of a threat than Amely was right now in the back seat. But Jaxon had struck him down regardless, without mercy, and now without remorse. He had given in to his anger in one brief second...and it had snuffed out a man's life before he had even realised what he was doing.

Before he knew where they were, the speeder was pulling into a charred and broken hellscape, punctuated by the twisted metal where once had been the foundations of buildings and tents. With a sudden realisation of horror, it dawned on Jaxon that they were back at the village. As they slowed to a halt in the centre of the street where Jaxon had supped with Sela Norr just a few days previously, the Jedi Knight felt his features grow pale. There was nothing left of the buildings that had once dominated the village; just blasted husks burst open at the seams, billowing thick clouds of heavy black smoke that stung Jaxon's eyes and caused him to cough as the speeder glided through them. At the foot of what had once been the command post for the alien resistance, bodies were neatly piled in a pyramid by, Jaxon assumed, the twi'lek who had sought him out for revenge. The smoke rose high into the air like desperate fingers clawing at the sky to escape their torment, blotting out the sun so that the entire village was draped in darkness.

As the speeder at last ceased its forward momentum, the twi'lek sniper nimbly hopped out and crossed to the back seat, where Amely was still unconscious. Jaxon leapt out after her and turned to help her, but was dissuaded by a shape of the head from the attractive red-skinned girl. 'She's safe with me,' she assured him, and Jaxon felt the truth and the compassion within her, 'there are medical supplies in the warehouse at the edge of the village that supplied the government's onslaught – I will look after her. You need to speak to _him_.'

'Him...?' Jaxon repeated the word dumbly, until the look in the twi'lek's eyes told him all he needed to know. '_The Wiseman survived..._?'

'He hid in his hidey-hole with some of the women and children,' she nodded, 'after the troops left, some of the survivors agreed to escort them to the next village. He tried to stop me going after you. I think you owe him, for what it's worth.'

Jaxon nodded and made to spin on his heel in the direction of the library, but stopped himself suddenly and turned to face the twi'lek, who was by now gently lifting the unconscious teenaged girl into her arms. 'Take care of her,' Jaxon said, and then added, 'she...she means a lot to me.' The look the twi'lek gave him completely disarmed him; it was wide-eyed, pitying, as if she knew something about what he'd just said that Jaxon didn't. He smiled thinly at her, then nodded his head and breaking away in the direction of the library, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the image of that _look_ she'd given him from his vision.

He found the Wiseman much as he had left him, prior to the tragic assault on the village. Sitting in the middle of his chamber, surrounded by flickering dim candlelight, meditating, radiating a power that sent shivers through Jaxon's bones. No sooner had the Jedi stepped into the room and the Wiseman opened his eyes, and they blazed with unearthly fire for a full second before the illusion was dispelled, and the Wiseman surveyed Jaxon with cold recognition.

Jaxon opened his mouth to speak, to offer some sort of condolence or express his horror and disgust at what had come to pass, but he was cut off immediately by the rasping death-like rattle of the Wiseman's.

'You bring great evil here, _Jedi_,' he spat, his look stiffening Jaxon to the spot. 'I sent you into the Valley of Night with every warning and every word of persuasion to turn aside from your folly; not to bring back the ghost of a dead god on your return!' Jaxon stared stupefied at the old man for a full minute, not comprehending his meaning. 'Turn out your pocket, fool!' the Wiseman shouted at length with a bark that caused Jaxon to jump. And then it occurred to him.

Reaching into his pocket, Jaxon felt his fingers enclose around the cold stone of the holocron he had lifted from Davan's corpse...he took it out, studying it and twisting it between his fingers, admiring the strange glyphs carved onto its surface.

'Innocent blood was spilt in the name of this infernal device...' the Wiseman whispered cryptically, causing Jaxon to nod his head.

'It caused a junior mechanic aboard our ship to go mad and slaughter the crew,' he answered, 'it turned him into a murderer.'

'I'm not referring to a junior mechanic!' the Wiseman snapped suddenly, 'I'm referring to the one who struck his head from his shoulders!'

Jaxon affixed the old man with a startled look. 'I...'

'You, what, Jedi?' the Wiseman raised an eyebrow, 'don't think I don't feel the emotions churning sickeningly within your soul...' he closed his eyes, and Jaxon felt the power of the Force rushing around him as the old man delved into his heart. 'I can feel your anger for Davan, for his betrayal, for his insanity, the bitter callousness with which you could justify setting your blade against him. I can feel your confusion, at your awe at the Temple of Kyros, at your impotence when faced with the power of the Dark Side. I feel...' the Wiseman opened his eyes and stared at Jaxon, and once again his eyes blazed with yellow flame. '...I feel the emotions that surround your feelings for your young padawn, who now lies injured in Samara's care. I sense worry for her wellbeing, pride at how quick a student of the Force she had turned out to be, disappointment at how headstrong she is and how unbecoming of a Jedi Knight that trait may make her; and I sense the attraction that binds you to her, despite it.'

Jaxon took a step back, an unconscious command causing him to shake his head suddenly. He realised, to his shame, that his heart was in his throat.

'So it is true...' the old man dropped his eyes in disappointment as he spoke. 'You have fallen for your own apprentice. All the bonds of the Jedi are henceforth broken between you; the longer you stay by her side, the deeper you will give yourself over to the Dark Side of the Force.'

Jaxon heard the words, and they sent a ripple of dread through him. He shook his head in bitter resistance. 'I don't...I'm not...I am a Jedi Knight, there is no emotion, _there is only peace_!'

'PEACE IS A LIE!' the Wiseman stood up now, and as he did so the candles around the room seemed to darken, as if withdrawing in terror from his presence which, despite his stature, seemed now to fill up the entire chamber. 'There is only passion! Your empty philosophies and self-denials have not given you the discipline to lust after your own student, and they will resound out hollow as you lose yourself to the darkness.' Jaxon pocketed the holocron again, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt clipped to his belt. 'Would you strike me down, _Jedi_? Destroy me as you destroyed your mechanic? Would you so casually complete your turn to the Dark Side?' Jaxon dropped his hands by his side, clenching his jaw against the rising bile in his gut.

_It couldn't be true, what the Wiseman said...there is no emotion, there is only peace...there is no emotion, there is only peace...but, Amely..._

At the thought of her, the fire had had ignited in Jaxon's sole was doused, and he felt his shoulders sag as they gave in to the warm flutter that kissed his heart in that moment. _Amely_...she was more than just an attractive girl; she was fierce, she was headstrong, she was intelligent. She would make a great Jedi one day if she learned to calm her mind and be one with the Force, not be driven by it. She was a world removed from any other girl her age Jaxon had ever met – she was _special_.

The realisation caused Jaxon to sit down upon the hard floor and bury his head in his hands. Amely _was_ special – she wasn't just a padawan anymore, she wasn't just a student to be trained and then parted with after her completion of the trials...she had become a friend. And some part of Jaxon had subconsciously started to yearn for more than that. Jaxon sensed the Wiseman settle back down into his previous position on the floor, and he remained silent for a moment while Jaxon collected himself. At length, the Jedi Knight sucked in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.

'I need to contact the nearest Republic world,' he whispered, 'I need to get off this planet.'

'And where will you go?'

Jaxon thought about it. 'Coruscant, to the Jedi Temple. I will tell the Masters I can no longer train Amely Cora, and request transfer to another part of the Order where I can reconnect myself with the light.' Jaxon gazed up at the old man, and was surprised to see him nodding in agreement.

'You would risk being parted from your padawan forevermore?'

Jaxon churned the question around in his head for a moment. _Would he_? _Would he really_? Could he stand to let Amely go...? Jaxon rubbed his eyes. 'If I must, then, I must,' was what he finally replied, but even he wasn't convinced by the sentiment. As if to try and prove the point to himself, he then said, 'Sela Norr had communications equipment in his command post – I could use that to hail a comm relay and request the military to dispatch Search and Rescue assets...'

The Wiseman held up a hand for silence, and Jaxon obeyed, raising a curious eyebrow. 'Sela Norr and his band of rebels possessed nothing powerful enough to send off-world transmissions,' he explained, and Jaxon felt his heart sank. The slight precognition that the Force afforded those attuned to it told him what was coming. 'The only communications uplink of that power would be...'

'...the military base in the Ernuvian Basin,' Jaxon finished. The Wiseman nodded dourly.

'The only way off this planet for you and your apprentice,' the Wiseman elucidated, 'is through the government's stronghold.'


	6. Chapter 6

Once again I've decided to dip back into this fanfic 'cos, frankly, it's easily the one that is closest to my heart. Talking about it with a couple of friends (one who swore blindly that she thoroughly enjoyed it, and another who felt content to drag more and more exciting ideas as to where, ultimately, the story of Jaxon Karr could go) convinced me to focus my efforts on finishing this story for the time being.

I confess I don't like this chapter. It's too long and rambling and I don't think it's my best in terms of writing technique, but, it gets me to a chapter I've been looking forwards to writing since I finished off Chapter One all those months ago - "Chapter Seven: Darth Malevent." So, expect to see it soon, and please feel free to offer reviews and opinions and observations.

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX**

"**A Lone Wolf"**

Amely lay across a gun metal grey slab, brow slick with sweat, chest rising and falling shallowly in time with shuddering breaths. Next to where she lay a crude bucket stood vigil, its water reddened with dark blood which had only just ceased to ooze violently out from the gaping wound in her stomach. Samara, the red-skinned twi'lek sniper who had so recently been bereaved of her guerrilla band, worked diligently applying fresh gauze and bandages to the child's near-fatal injury, stopping whenever she winced or cried out in pain to wipe her forehead and whisper soothingly in her ear. She cared for the injured Jedi as she would have her own daughter; had the death squads not ripped her from her heart years previously.

Jaxon Karr cleared his throat and waited awkwardly at the doorway before Samara motioned that he could enter. He crossed over to be by Samara's side, heart in his throat as he looked at the grim spectacle before him. The air was close with the sickly stench of blood and sweat, and even R1, repaired and standing watch in the corner, was quiet with sombre brooding. Jaxon put a hand on Samara's shoulder by way of thanks.

'She is strong,' Samara whispered, her beautifully inflected lilt so pleasantly at odds with the awful scene before her. 'A wound like this should have killed her, should have caused her to bleed out, but something...' she looked up at Jaxon, her eyes wide, '...something has kept her alive. Before today, I never believed in your Force – I thought it was children's stories and superstition – but this...I have never seen anything like this before in my life. She should he dead; and yet, she is convalescing faster than I have ever seen in a human before.'

Jaxon smiled wearily, the news gladdening his heavy heart. 'She's a good student,' he said quietly, 'she is very strong in the ways of the force. In time I predict she will grow to outmatch even me.'

Samara was silent for a moment as she reached out to stroke Amely's cheek gently, then she inhaled slowly. 'She's more than just a student, though...isn't she?' Samara looked over at Jaxon again. 'You care for her.'

'Every master cares for his apprentice in some way,' Jaxon answered automatically.

'Yeah, but...' Samara shook her head, '...it's more than that. You've developed a real attachment to her. You don't need to be able to tap into the Force to see that.'

Jaxon swallowed, and by way of avoiding Samara's knowing glare, said, 'I have to go back into the jungle.' He cleared his throat self-consciously. 'I need to send a distress signal back to Republic space and call for them to scramble SAR assets and get us out of this jungle,' he sighed deeply, 'I have failed in my mission...and I have failed Amely.' Jaxon could feel Samara's gaze boring into his soul, but the attractive twi'lek didn't respond. Eventually, Jaxon stood up. 'If Amely awakens while I am away, tell her where I am and what I am doing – but do not let her follow me. This mission will not take long.'

'You may take my speeder, master Jedi,' Samara said as Jaxon made for the door. He paused in the archway and turned back to flash her a thankful smile and a nod. 'May the Force be with you,' she said as he ducked out of the room and back into the early morning sunlight.

As Jaxon pulled his deep hood down over his face and slid into the comfortable seat of the speeder, he felt once again, and at long last, at peace. One with the force. He had handed the holocron of Lord Kyros over to the Wiseman before leaving him the day before, when he had decided upon this course of action, and since being removed from the grasp of that infernal device he had felt his connection with the living Force return to him. All around him he felt the gentle, breathtaking pulse of the forest as it purred with life around him, the interconnections of all lifeforms in the galaxy flowing through his spirit and soothing the fire that had burned darkly in his heart since the confrontation with Davan Raan at the temple. As the engine of the sleek landspeeder roared into life beneath his seat, Jaxon closed his eyes slowly and expertly slipped into a brief meditative trance. _There is no emotion, there is only peace_.

He gunned the throttle, feeling the Force flowing through his arms into the controls of the machine and its chugging engine, and then gunned the throttle. The speeder took off with a leap, slicing across the deserted street and into the thick undergrowth of the Ernuvian Basin.

The Jedi Knight knew where he was going. He had studied maps of the Basin the Wiseman had provided long into the early hours of the night, calculating the viability of getting an off-world transmission as far as the Core from the relative location of the government's military base. At last, Jaxon had realised that it was, indeed, a possibility. The base proved to be his only way to get a message far enough to reach the Jedi Council and, hopefully, implore them to send a Search and Rescue mission as far out as Akasha to rescue himself and Amely Cora. His studious dissection of the maps had also engrained the topography of the region into his memory; as he drove through the jungle, hot and heavy with humidity and the underlying threat of its indigenous life, he was reaching out with the power of the Force, scanning for familiar terrain and landmarks that would guide him ever nearer to the Xyxotl Nation's military installation.

He had been driving for about a half hour when he finally felt it. Great and unnatural and ugly, like a hideous scar welted into the jungle. Steel rivets and metal girders and tarmacadam taxi lanes and runways for great iron birds loaded for bear with every weapon of war conceivable to man. It screamed at him from just over the next ridge, north by north west, pulling him closer to his only way home. Jaxon had to continue on his bearing for another ten minutes before he found a way through the thick foliage in the direction, but as he neared the base at last, he began to feel the familiar trickle of trepidation wetting his brow.

He steadied himself, focusing on the living Force all around him, the calming ocean of life that contained every living organism, every planet, every star, every grain of dust in the expanse of space that all things were connected by. He focused, washing away his thoughts like pebbles from a beach, and gazed out under the lip of his hood to lay before him. From out of the jungle mists he could see now great barbed wire fences, taller than three men stood upon each other's shoulders, bracketing a heavy iron gate by which stood a checkpoint and two armed guards in military camouflage. Jaxon slowed the speeder as he approached, one of the guards, cradling a blaster rifle, raising a hand to indicate that he should stop. Through the mists, within the installation, Jaxon could see giant AA towers reaching menacingly into the sky. He could sense the buzz of life beyond those metal gates; hundreds, if not thousands, of government soldiers stationed here for a single purpose – to kill guerrillas and maintain control of the populace of this jungle. All Jaxon could do was hope that their timely victory over Sela Norr's band had slackened their awareness somewhat.

The speeder came at last to stop by the guard. He wore a loose-fitting camouflage anorak, probably to keep whatever high tech equipment he had strapped to him dry in the humidity of the jungle. His rifle was slung lazily around his shoulder and his finger rested casually on the trigger guard. He had not taken his post today expecting trouble; Jaxon would use that to his advantage.

The guard put a hand on the speeder and looked around, probably scanning the brush for signs of ambush before lazily rattling through a sentence in Akashan. Jaxon did not stir, not understanding what the soldier had said. When it became clear that Jaxon did not speak the language, the soldier repeated himself in Galactic Basic.

'Sir, this is a military installation and is off-limits to the civilian population. Unless you have authorisation you are instructed to turn around and leave the premises or risk further action.' He spoke dully, disinterestedly, as if he was already fed up with this conversation. His mind was on anywhere but the present; Jaxon saw his chance.

Peering up at the guard from beneath the folds of his hood, Jaxon waved two fingers on his right hand as he spoke, reaching out to the guard with the Force. 'I am authorised to be on this base,' he said, his voice heavy, 'I have clearance to access the communications array.'

'You have authorisation to be on this base,' the soldier repeated in the same disinterested, bored tone as before, 'you have clearance to access the communications array.'

Jaxon allowed himself the faintest flicker of a smile across his lips at his victory. He reached out with the Force again, pushing at the soldier's tired mind and inching him towards compliance. 'I could use an escort to the broadcast deck,' again, he waved two fingers in the air as he spoke, the Force firmly under his command.

'You could use an escort to the broadcast deck,' the soldier repeated resolutely, tapping the side of the speeder with his knuckles twice in thought, before waving at his companion on the opposite side of the dirt track. 'Wave this one through,' he shouted out, 'I've to take him up to the comm centre.' The other soldier nodded and turned to face a tall guard tower that stood a few yards down the line of fencing, giving a massive wave to whoever was standing sentry within. With a whirring sound and then a loud _clang_, the iron gate popped out of place and began to automatically swing backwards, granting Jaxon access to the facility. With a moan, the gate came to a halt, and the soldier tapped the side of the speeder again. 'No unauthorised vehicles permitted on the base, sir,' he said matter-of-factly, 'we're walking from here.'

Unsurprised, and happy to oblige, Jaxon switched off the landspeeder's engine and hopped out of the vehicle, straightening his robes as he waited for the soldier to lead the way into the base. As they walked through the fencing there came another whirring sound followed by a loud clang as the iron gates slammed back into place. Jaxon was committed now. He wouldn't be leaving again until he had sent his distress signal to the Republic. And after that...it was out of his hands.

Jaxon and his armed companion walked briskly through the base, past tidy rows of temporary barracks and kitchens; legions of military hardware, tanks, hovercraft, armoured personnel carriers and machine gun emplacements; and patrols walking shifts along the base perimeter. More than once Jaxon caught a few confused eyes looking over at the strange hooded man keeping himself to himself, but the soldier's determined and confident stride must have assured them that everything was in order, because no-one came over to follow up on the stares.

The communications array lay towards the middle of the installation; a towering monolith raking the sky, its steeple a dozen antenna arrays, filaments and receiver dishes. At its base, by the only visibly access point, another guard stood cradling a rifle, a death stick smouldering away between his lips, cap pulled down to hide his eyes. As they approached him, Jaxon raised an eyebrow in surprise – discipline must be fairly lax if command allowed its soldiers to partake in hallucinogenics while standing watch. The guard, however, heard them approach and, tipping his cap to push it over his face he stepped forwards to meet them.

'Where are you taking this one?' he inquired in a suspicious tone. Jaxon reached out with the Force towards him, feeling his apprehension and, at the same time, his muddied perception of reality brought about by the smoking of the drug hanging between his lips. Jaxon remained calm; this guard would not pose a problem.

Before the soldier escorting him could answer, Jaxon waved a hand in the air and, voice thick with the Force, said, 'I am authorised to access the communications array. You've done your job well.'

The guardsman blinked stupidly for a moment, and then just nodded his head and gestured with his rifle's barrel into the door, taking back his place leaning against the wall and pushing his cap down over his eyes. Jaxon narrowed his eyes unsurely for a second; that was not usually the way people responded to a mind trick. But, he figured to himself, perhaps the hallucinogen had disrupted the impact of the trick in some way – in any case, it had had the desired effect. Jaxon nodded appreciatively to his escort, who nodded back before spinning away on his heel to return to his previous post. It would take a few minutes before the effect of the mind trick on his mind wore off, and he started to question what he had just done or who the mysterious robed stranger was...but by then Jaxon was confident he'd have done what he'd come here to do.

Jaxon stepped into the small tower and took the stairs all the way to the control room at the top. It was a densely packed observation deck that looked over the entire base, overrun with the hum of computers and human life. As he came to the door he could sense a crew of about seven men, plus an officer on duty, manipulating the various devices and telecommunications panels in the room. When he entered, all chatter and barked orders ceased immediately – all eyes turned to the figure in the brown hood who had just appeared in the doorway.

'Sir, you have no business being here!' an officer in dress browns, hands clasped behind his back, strode across the room towards Jaxon. 'I don't know how you got up here but I am going to have to ask you to leave – this is a restricted area and...' he was cut off by the bursting sound of Jaxon igniting his lightsaber, bathing the small room in an eerie blue glow.

'Nobody need get hurt here,' Jaxon said coolly, reaching a hand up and pushing his hood off his head, 'you may all leave peacefully, if you go, now, and don't dally about.'

He could sense the officer weighing up his decision; everything from the increase in his heart rate to the electric signals in his brain and the twitch of a finger as it yearned for the blaster pistol at his hip registered in the living Force all round him. Jaxon felt and noted it all. After a few tense seconds, the officer obviously decided that drawing against an armed Jedi was not in his best interests – he barked an order to clear out, fixing Jaxon with a dark look before following the rest of his men down the stairwell. It wouldn't be long before the alarm was raised now, Jaxon mused, extinguishing his lightsaber and crossing over to what he recognised as an off-world broadcast terminal. The panel winked and bleeped at him from a hundred different switches and dials and LEDs, and three separate panels showed three separate categories of data. He stared confusedly at it for a second, trying to make sense of it all.

The panel on the left, bordered by two dials and a small keypad, was obviously a triangulator – from here users could specify the general region of a planet they wanted a communication broadcast to. That made sense, but it wasn't what Jaxon was looking for – he needed to send out a broad-range signal on all channels, so that any Republic vessel that was within range could pick it up and relay it to the Jedi temple on Coruscant. The middle panel was the main operating screen – right now it was showing a generic input message, waiting for a command to be given. Next to it, on the right, was a starmap displaying the Akasha System and the range that a tight-range signal could reach. Jaxon studied it carefully; Akasha was flung out to a highly desolate sector of the galaxy. While not technically on the Outer Rim its isolation nonetheless made communication to the Core worlds difficult. At the best of times, solar radiation and other natural phenomena toyed with even the most advanced communications devices; and that was with relays every few parsecs to boost the signal and beam the communication further along to its ultimate destination. The closest Republic relay, recalled from memory, that Jaxon knew existed was a small moon thirty seven parsecs from the Akasha System itself. It was, as Jaxon recalled, a top secret deep-space research facility that, only hours prior to his and Amely's departure aboard the _Serendipity_, had been attacked by a Sith infantry battalion known as the Gloom Walkers. He had no idea whether or not it had withstood the invasion. And that meant he had to boost the signal if he had any hope of his communication reaching friendly lines.

On the far side of the room, by one of the panoramic viewports that looked out over the base, a maintenance hatch in the ceiling led to what Jaxon figured must have been the antenna array atop the tower. He climbed the rungs of the access ladder and popped open the hatch, climbing out onto the railed platform that snaked around the antenna array. Up on the platform the wind was palpable, buffeting the tower this way and that, causing it to sway sickeningly back and forth underneath Jaxon's feet. His stomach gave a lurch, and he momentarily lost his balance, falling to the side and grasping desperately at the railing. He found himself staring straight down at the ground fifty feet below him. Blanching, Jaxon crawled backwards on his hands and knees and slowly tried to stand himself back up. The platform rocked violently beneath him. Using the Force, he tried to steady the platform and bolster it against the onslaught of the window. Slowly, legs shaking, he managed to stand back up and turn around to gaze at the array above him.

At first he was put off by the mess of antennae and power cables that made up the array. Amely had always had a natural affinity for machinery; he knew that she would have known immediately what was needed to boost the array's range. But Jaxon focused his mind and cleared it of all doubt – he hadn't much time to waste before the alarm was sounded and a platoon of armed troops burst into the little control room. He reached out with the Force, trying to glean an understanding of what everything did. In his years before being found and trained by the Jedi Order he had flown an independent transport ship across the Republic worlds. While never learning himself how to maintain it, he had picked up enough to have a rudimentary understanding of how things works.

The long-range communications array was the easiest to spot – the tallest of the antennae, it reached into the clear blue sky with a black-and-yellow caution stripe painted down its side. Jaxon walked briskly around the maintenance platform until he could reach it, popping open its service hatch and seeing what was inside. His best bet, he thought, was to reroute the signals of both the tight-range and broad-range arrays through it, knocking out the general effectiveness of the communicator but allowing for one single burst transmission that, with luck, would reach far enough to be picked up by a Republic ship or outpost.

Jaxon took a deep breath, and reached his hand into the panel...

There was a sudden explosion that sent shockwaves up the tower, throwing off Jaxon's concentration on keeping the platform steady and sending him head over heels across the walkway. He slammed his head against the railing and winced, curling up and gripping the back of his head with both hands against the pain. Far below, Jaxon heard more explosions ring out, followed by the unmistakable sound of laser fire and men screaming. He regained his composure and crawled over to the lip of the walkway, staring down at the spectacle below.

From this vantage he could see clearly the gates through which he had entered the base through; now, outside them, dozens of armed men had materialised in the jungle undergrowth and were firing blindly into the base, catching the relaxed and off-duty soldiers unawares. The first explosion had ripped out the gate itself, and now columns of fighters were pouring through, taking up positions all over the installation, kicking in barracks doors and throwing in thermal detonators to kill everybody inside, setting up bases of fire to gun down anyone who tried to escape. It was a massacre; the government troops didn't have a chance.

Jaxon swallowed hard. He recognised the makeshift and mismatched uniforms of the attackers; the same sort that Zivo's band of rebels had worn on their long trek through the jungle days ago. The Xyxotl National Liberation Army death squads.

Picking himself back up, Jaxon cursed under his breath. Things had gotten a lot more complicated. He rushed back over to the exposed service panel, leaning against the rails for support as he did so, and quickly disconnected the power for the two other antennae and connected them to the long-range transmitter. Satisfied with his work, he sealed the panel again and bolted back down the maintenance hatch into the control room.

Racing over to the control panel, he was nearly thrown off balance by another explosion which rocked the tower, but focused and punched in his command into the computer screen. The sounds of battle were drawing nearer now, and he knew it was only a matter of seconds before the death squads dispatched a team to secure the control room in the mistaken belief that the operators were going to send out a distress call to reinforcements.

Upon registering his command, the screen flashed up red and blinked on and off, a message scrawled in black across it. _Off-world transmissions require security clearance D-15. Error. Command not processed._ Jaxon slammed his palm against the display in frustration, but forced himself to remain calm. _Think_, he told himself, _come on, think!_ The officer would have had clearance. But he was gone; probably caught in the crossfire and killed by now. Jaxon closed his eyes and focused on the living Force, trying to find the answer somewhere in the room. There was another explosion, and screams carrying up the stairwell from right outside the tower. Time was growing short.

_Amely_.

Jaxon's eyes opened. Amely? His heart missed a beat as his mind whispered the name teasingly. _Why am I thinking about her now...? Focus, there isn't time to— _But then it dawned on him. He knew what she would do.

Jaxon dropped to his knees in front of the panel and scanned with his eyes for the console's service hatch, as he had down on the walkway above. He located it quickly and popped it open, staring in confusion for a moment at the myriad of wires and cables within. _This is where Boxy would come in handy..._ Jaxon thought as he gritted his teeth and tried to locate the emergency override lock. At first his heart sank; this looked like an older model, probably installed before locks became common in most computer hardware. He searched with the Force and, for a moment, felt nothing, but then, pushing aside a lump of cables he saw the red fuse inset into the back of the panel. He reached his fingers in and tried to pry it loose, but, slick with sweat, they slipped and fumbled about their target, unable to get a grip. Jaxon sucked in a deep breath, wiped his palms on his robe and tried again. This time, he managed to secure a hold of the fuse and, with the nail of his index finger, rip it out of its encasing. There was a sudden shower of sparks that caused Jaxon to avert his eyes, but he stood up to survey his accomplishment.

The two secondary panels fizzled and died to white noise, while the red warning message on the central display disappeared and returned to the input command screen. Quickly, Jaxon repeated his command and hit the 'Enter' key. This time, the command was processed without objection from the computer.

Usually, when the emergency override lock was manually removed from a system, it caused a dramatic power fluctuation that rendered the entire machine useless. The fact that he had, however, diverted power from the other antennae into the off-world transmitter meant that the system could just about overcome this handicap. It would lessen the range of his communication – perhaps more than he had added to it by his power reroute – but at this stage, he was desperate.

The screen flashed blue and a hollow red triangle appeared in the centre of it. Jaxon cleared his throat.

'This is an emergency transmission broadcasting on all channels,' he spoke loudly and clearly, taking his time despite his desperation to finish up and get out before the guerrillas could arrive. 'Medical vessel _Serendipity_ has crash landed on the planet Akasha, only two survivors – myself and my young padawan learner, Amely Cora. Requesting Republic Navy assets for a Search and Rescue.' He repeated the message three times, and then signed off with the customary 'over.' Wiping his brow, Jaxon took a step back. He had done all he could possibly do; whether or not the message actually reached friendly ears, now, was anyone's guess.

He finished up not a second too soon. Almost immediately after taking a step back he sensed it; a great fireball erupting from somewhere on the ground below and hurtling at high speed towards the antenna array. He saw it out of the corner of his eye through the viewport; a flash of light, then an explosion that sent cascades of ugly orange flame and thick black smoke over the mouth of the tower, enveloping the room in darkness for a split second. Jaxon was thrown back against another nearby panel, but, unfazed, he took this as his sign to leave.

As he descended the winding stairwell, his mind raced to come up with an explanation for what had just happened. No doubt one of the guerrillas had launched a rocket at the tower to stop it broadcasting – a momentary pang of worry overcame him. Had they detected the transmission? Did they have jamming technology that would have stopped it from getting off-world? There was no way of knowing, however, and so Jaxon focused on the task at hand.

His speeder was likely destroyed; the rebels were pouring out of the jungle through the only entrance to the base he had seen. That meant the only way of escape were the gunships that lined the far end of the base by the runway; if they hadn't been destroyed in the fighting yet.

Something stopped him as he reached the last few stepss. He could sense, outside, just how close the battle had come to the tower. He would have to, it seemed, fight his way out. On autopilot he slipped his lightsaber off his belt and ignited it before passing through the doorway into the daylight outside.

Almost immediately he was met by a hail of laser fire from every direction; both rebels and government soldiers, who had not been expecting a strange figure wielding a humming blue lightsaber to suddenly materialise in the midst of their firefight suddenly turned their sights on him. Effortlessly in tune with the Force Jaxon had no trouble smashing the wave of laser bolts back at their sources.

Ignoring the screams of the dying around him, Jaxon walked away from the communications tower towards the airfield. Twice he was stopped by embattled assailants: the first were three rebels he simply pushed away with the Force; the second was a small team of government soldiers who opened fire at him. Two fell when he smacked the laser bolts back into them; the other two he cut down personally. For the most part, though, soldiers on both sides were too caught up in the battle at hand to notice the lone Jedi striding through the lines towards the hangars that sat along either side of the runway and launch pads of the airfield.

Stepping onto the hard tarmac of the runway, baked and sweltering under the scorching jungle sun, Jaxon felt a surge of relief flood through him when he saw, on a landing pad about halfway down the length of the runway, a shuttle sitting unguarded amidst the chaos of battle. He extinguished his lightsaber and picked up his pace, jogging along the path towards the landing pad.

A sudden, overwhelming disturbance in the Force caused him to stop short suddenly. He felt it hit him like a bucket of ice water over his head. There was an anomaly somewhere close by. Amidst the carnage and madness of battle, his senses were ablaze with information. Through the Force he could feel the heat of explosions and the burning cuts from laser bolts. He could feel the hearts of the warriors pounding and flickering out of existence as the life was snuffed out of them, and he could feel the vibrations in the air as gunshots cut through it. But there was one life form that stuck out amidst the brutality of the scene. There was someone nearby, calm and collected, heart rate steady and breathing deep and deliberate.

Jaxon stopped short and looked around him for the source. Something, at the same time, was shrouding him from the Force. He felt a cold sweat take root on his brow as the memory of Amely in the Temple of Kyros came flooding back; he had felt something similar then, and it had caused his young apprentice to drop her guard.

A footstep taking to the tarmac behind him caused Jaxon to whip around, hilt still in hand. His eyes grew wide at the sight in front of him.

He had never seen a S'kytri before. Underneath a deep black hood, a dark blue face with burning red eyes stared over at the Jedi. The two large wings that were a staple unique to the S'kytri people were folded neatly behind him, obviously accommodated by the long robes that trailed to the ground, hiding his feet. His features were handsome, recognisably humanoid despite his coloration and the wings so proudly displayed behind him. As he took a step forwards, a sly smile began to spread across his face. Jaxon looked on in awe.

There was the familiar bursting sound of a lightsaber being ignited, and from the folds of the S'kytri's dark robes a crimson blade hummed into life.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"**Darth Malevent"**

The air hummed with the sounds of battle. Screams of injured and dying men, the _zap_ of laser bolts and exploding ordnance all seemed distant. It was as if things were already calming down. The rebel assault had caught the soldiers off guard, to such an extent that the initial wave of attackers had been devastating; however the government's men were too well equipped to be overrun by guerrillas from out of the jungle. They had regrouped and cut down just as many rebels as men they had lost. The effect was that neither side truly came out of the skirmish with an advantage; both bodies of men had crushed themselves against one another in a vain effort to achieve victory. Jaxon Karr could sense all this in the air, through the Force, in his bones, as he stood across the runway from the handsome S'kytri wielding the blood red lightsaber.

The shroud of the Dark Side had fallen. Now, Jaxon could sense the evil squirming and writhing within the stranger's heart as they stood, staring each other down, the silence between them only broken by the hum of the S'kytri's lightsaber. Jaxon shook his head once in disbelief and then engaged the kill switch on his hilt. He brought the sky blue blade of his sword up close to his face in guard, and steeled himself. There was no need for words between the two of them. What was about to happen was as natural as gravity or sunlight.

It was the dark stranger who moved first. With a movement as fluid and graceful as an angel from legend, he surged forwards with a twirl, spinning around to deliver a powerful blow which Jaxon parried only in the nick of the time. He surrendered a few steps in his surprise. The S'kytri moved incredibly quick. In the time it took Jaxon to move back a few metres, the S'kytri had landed four more blows which Jaxon only just managed to deflect.

The blades of their lightsabers crashed together with cracks like thunder rending the sky as the S'kytri expertly danced around Jaxon's defence, searching for a weakness. The key to lightsaber fights was not just in swordsmanship – it was a test of endurance, dexterity and command of the Force. If a duellist's concentration lapsed for even just a second, his opponent would sense it and take advantage of it. The ease with which Jedi could dispatch regular opponents, not tuned in to the subtleties of the Force which allowed Jedi to sense imminent danger and respond breathtakingly fast to it, was all for nought when confronted with an opponent who boasted the same skill.

As their blades cracked off against each other Jaxon probed the S'kytri with the Force, trying to find an area he was neglecting amidst the furious barrage he was unleashing upon Jaxon. Unable to find one immediately, Jaxon realised he had to reverse the direction of the fight before the S'kytri had him backed into the hanger behind him, from where he could no longer manoeuvre.

He timed it perfectly. He lowered his guard but an inch, enough to goad the S'kytri into attacking to exploit the lapse in defensiveness, and swung his own blade to meet it. The two lightsabers crashed together, red on blue, but the suddenness of Jaxon's move allowed him to bat the S'kytri's blade away, giving him a precious moment – if only a moment – to break the line of the fight and sidestep to the left of the S'kytri.

He immediately launched an offensive flurry, but by now the S'kytri had recovered and parried nimbly, retreating a few steps away from Jaxon's reach. They were now facing each other, about two metres apart, along the length of the runway. To their right was the open maw of one of the empty hangers, which Jaxon had moved away from to avoid getting caught within. To the left, the sounds of battle within the base raged on, but they were but a dull hum now as Jaxon focused all of his energies on the mysterious attacker before him.

The S'kytri lunged forwards again, this time breaking into a breathtaking run and hurtling himself through the air at Jaxon, delivering a trio of quick slashes before his feet had even met the ground again. Jaxon parried but stood fast, not willing to go back on the defensive. He swiped low, causing the S'kytri to jump over the arc of Jaxon's blade and deliver a cut from above that Jaxon only managed to stop at the last second.

The two blades locked together, Jaxon's own mere inches from his face. The S'kytri, with both hands on his hilt and with the excess momentum of his jump, had the advantage of leverage and slowly, cruelly, began to push the blue of Jaxon's lightsaber back towards his wide eyes. Jaxon grunted with exertion as his right arm strained to hold back the strength of the S'kytri, probing with the Force for an opening.

Something presented itself immediately. So focused was the S'kytri in expending all of his strength to end Jaxon's life then and there that he had momentarily let his mindfulness of the Force slip. It was the only opening that Jaxon required – he pulled his free left hand back and summoned all of his energy into it, then pushed forwards with the full power of the Force to slam the pent up energy into the stomach of the S'kytri.

He gave a yell of surprise as he was lifted off his feet and thrown backwards several metres into the air; before unceremoniously hitting the ground, however, the magnificent wingspan of the S'kytri spread into life and pumped at the air. He was able to steady himself and, slowly beating his wings, hover out of reach above Jaxon.

With a cruel sneer twisting his features, the S'kytri balled his left hand into a fist and pumped it forwards, releasing his fingers at the apex of the movement. There was a flash of blue light as lightning erupted from his palm, which Jaxon managed to catch with his lightsaber blade only at the very last second. As the torrent abated Jaxon took a deep breath and steadied himself. He nearly underestimated the S'kytri. He would not do it again.

Flying ever higher above Jaxon's head, the S'kytri's lightsaber hung casually by his side, of no use to him at that vantage. Jaxon took a moment to sum up their situation in his head before deciding upon a course of action. He took a few steps back, towards the mouth of the hangar, causing the S'kytri to gently float towards him in lazy pursuit. When he judged he was close enough, Jaxon bent his knees and summoned the Force to him. With a gracious leap into the air, boosted by the strength of the Force, Jaxon backflipped from where he stood on the ground below to the roof of the hangar, landing with a loud thud and immediately putting his blade up on guard to block another arc of lightning that the S'kytri fired at him from his comfortable position. Jaxon's lightsaber absorbed the force energy, and Jaxon settled back into his most natural form of guard.

'WHO ARE YOU?' he shouted to be heard over the din of the battle raging at the other side of the base.

The S'kytri smiled wickedly in response, the crimson hue of his blade flickering in the sunlight. 'I am more interested, master Jedi,' he said in a voice as dry and cracked as the Tatooine desert, 'in knowing who it is _you_ are. You who would sneak onto a military base moments before an attack; only to fight your way through the very people whose arrival you preceded. Of the two of us, you are by far the more interesting specimen.'

Jaxon swallowed, and weighed up his options in his head. He had no reason to reveal his identity to this man, but on the other hand, doing so may entice the S'kytri to reply in kind. He needn't explain the circumstances of his being on Akasha, nor that he was not the only Jedi here – he wasn't about to put little Amely in danger.

'I am Jaxon Karr,' he said at length, still keeping his lightsaber up on guard in case the S'kytri used the distraction of conversation to launch another deadly arc of lightning at him, 'Jedi Knight in service to the Galactic Republic.'

His admission was met by a cackling, mocking laugh. 'How quaint. A true believer in a Republic that is long since deceased,' the S'kytri bowed his head, 'I salute you, master Jedi.'

'You know my name,' Jaxon ventured desperately, 'but I do not know yours.'

'No,' the S'kytri smiled, 'you do not.' His wings flapped dramatically once, twice, and then a third time, carrying him higher into the sky so that he blocked out the sun. 'I am Malevent the Windborn, Dark Lord of the Sith. I am the one who will take your life, Jedi.'

'_You'll have to come down and fight me first_,' Jaxon shouted back through gritted teeth a split second before he swung his arm and flung his lightsaber into the air after Malevent. Guided by the force it arced around to the Sith's undefended left side, and would have inflicted a mortal wound had Malevent not so quickly reacted to swat it away with his own blade. Jaxon reached a hand up and pulled the lightsaber back down into his grasp with the Force.

And not a second too soon. No sooner had the lightsaber been returned to Jaxon and Malevent dipped his wings for a lightning-fast dive, lightsaber held out in his right hand to maximise the distance of its swing and, hence, its power. When the attack came Jaxon barely had time to duck underneath the swipe and lunge upwards with his own sword – he met nothing but air, turning around in time to see Malevent hit the roof of the hangar and fold back his wings behind his back.

The Dark Lord stood up slowly, and turned around, eyes blazing with malevolence. He flicked his right wrist upwards, bringing his saber into a loose guard, and then lunged once again at Jaxon. The ferocity of the assault nearly bowled the Jedi over; it was almost twice as fast and powerful as the initial confrontation on the tarmac below. Retreating across the rooftop, blue blade swishing to and fro to meet the Sith's, Jaxon realised with a sudden pang of worry that Malevent had been holding something back during the first phase of their duel. Now he was unleashing everything he had, and Jaxon suddenly realised he was no match for the Sith Lord.

Before Jaxon could even come up with a plan of action, he realised with a sinking heart that he had run out of rooftop. His feet had reached the edge, nothing but empty air now keeping him from the tarmac runway far below. In a desperate attempt to reverse his sudden downturn of fortune Jaxon switched his stance at the last second, trying to drive home an offensive strike and off-balance the Sith.

He miscalculated his timing, however, and Malevent was able to swat his blade away so hard that Jaxon lost his grip. His lightsaber extinguished itself as the kill switch was released and the hilt fell harmlessly to the floor below him. Before Jaxon could react, the sole of Malevent's boot connected with his chest and sent him flying off the rooftop after his lightsaber.

Jaxon had time to let out a cry of terror before his frame smashed into the hard ground below, and everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

Just a quick note to say - in this chapter I reference Samara as having "blue" skin, where in all previous descriptions she's had red skin. That's an intentional retcon I decided on for her when I came up with where her character eventually ends up. Just wanted to say that so there's no confusion.

Also, I tried changing the format of this chapter to make it easier to read, after a request in a recent review, but I don't think fanfic has acknowledged the changes I made. Sorry about that, anyone who's finding it difficult to read due to the page's formatting. Please keep the reviews coming, and I hope you all enjoy.

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**CHAPTER EIGHT**

"**Legacy of the Sith"**

When the battle died down, all that remained was ash and debris and charred, broken bodies strewn across the ruin of the jungle. Those rebels who could fled on foot, some limping, some abandoning their weapons to help wounded friends out on makeshift stretchers. Others were left behind – a bullet in the head put them out of their misery, or none at all for those who couldn't be found in time or who hadn't the ammunition to spare. These were left lying where they dropped, clutching cauterised laser burns, coughing up great pools of dark red blood and wailing mournfully for mothers or gods or lost friends. It was a harrowing spectacle. Shell shocked soldiers sat huddled in isolated corners, knees drawn up to their chests, staring blindly out at a world they no longer recognised. Great smoking craters of charred metal and debris sat smouldering where minutes ago had stood canteens and recreational buildings packed wall-to-wall with human life. The fortunate few who had escaped serious injury and maintained combat discipline stalked the ruins of the once formidable base, rifles hanging down uselessly by their sides.

Two friends, who had become separated during the carnage and had been overjoyed to find each other, alive and relatively unharmed, raised their heads to the sky as they approached the airfield. The sound of a shuttle taking flight had caught their attention; sure enough, from the landing pad at the far end of the runway, they saw a military personnel shuttle take to the skies, unfurling its giant steel wings before its engines gunned and it picked up speed. It disappeared over the treetops, heading in a northerly direction. The two soldiers shared a look, but carried on regardless.

The death squad assault had petered out before getting to the airfield, and so it stood to reason that the gunships and other aircraft had escaped the worst of the fighting. The hangars and air traffic control tower remained unblemished by the battle which had ravaged the rest of the base; aside from the shuttle that had mysteriously taken flight just moments ago, the aircraft too seemed untouched and undisturbed. At least they had managed to keep _something_ safe from rebel hands.

'_Look, there_!' one of the soldiers nudged his buddy and gestured with a nod down the runway. '_What is that_?' he asked in Akashan. '_A body_?'

His friend squinted through the glare of the sunlight, and sure enough, he saw it too. By the mouth of one of the maintenance hangars, a body lay still and lifeless, arms and legs splayed out as if having fallen from a height. Both men picked up their pace to a jog and crossed the remaining distance over to the body. As they reached it, they slowed and then came to a complete halt as one when they saw what lay before them.

There was no doubting from the scene that the individual who lay in front of them had been a Jedi Knight. His priestly robes of brown would have given him away even if it wasn't for the silver hilt of a lightsaber that lay a few metres from where his broken body was sprawled out. Both men exchanged looks with each other. What had this Jedi been doing here? Had he been leading the rebel attack? Was that the sort of work Jedi Knights did? It was no secret that, nominally independent though Akasha was, it lay within the boundaries of what technically was demarcated to the former New Sith Empire. Though the Empire had fallen into anarchy – with every Dark Lord of the Sith fighting every other for power and territory across the expanse of the galaxy – its star systems were still regarded as hostile by what remained of the Republic's government and allied systems. A Jedi being here, then, so far into nominal Imperial space, could in no interpretation of events be anything but trouble. One of the men took a step forwards, meaning to examine the body, but a sound from behind them caused both of them to swing around, bringing their rifles up on instinct.

The young girl who stood before them was beautiful. She had delicate, pale skin, lusciously deep green eyes beneath waves of silky brown hair and a fiery, fierce determination that was all at once intimidating and stunningly attractive. She was stripped to the waist, a tunic tied around her hips leaving only a short white vest to keep her decent yet exposing her midriff, and a bloodied bandage that was applied to her left side. She was a surreal spectacle amidst the chaos and confusion left in the wake of the battle; at once alien and at odds with the world around her, and at the same time, thanks to her wound, seemingly able to blend in. Despite their confusion, neither man lowered his rifle.

'_Who are you_?' one of them barked in Akashan. '_Are you a rebel? What are you doing here_?'

The attractive young girl just stared back up at them with her cold, uncomprehending green eyes, not returning a response to any of the questions. Unnerved, the man who hadn't spoken set the stock of his rifle firmly into his shoulder, and trained his sights right between the child's eyes. '_Answer him!_' he shouted in Akashan, his heart pounding in his ears. '_ANSWER HIM_!'

The girl didn't move. She just stood there calmly, regarding them with inquisitive stares, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. The soldier's hands were shaking now, and he was battling to keep his aim steady on the child's face. He felt his nerves harden, constricting his chest, and finally could take it no more. He squeezed the trigger on his rifle.

There was a bursting sound, and a flash of green light. Both men were dead before their bodies hit the ground.

Amely Cora extinguished her lightsaber and rushed over to the side of her fallen master. She knew he wasn't dead; she could sense the ever-so-faint pulse of life, even from across the airfield, but nonetheless she was concerned for him. She clipped her lightsaber to her belt as she knelt by Jaxon, pushing a strand of hair out of his face and enveloping him in healing Force energy. It would have to be sufficient until she could get him back to Samara.

Grunting with exertion, she lifted Jaxon's dead weight with two hands and tried to drag his body to the landing pad, to get him away and back to the village in one of the shuttles. The fallen Jedi weighed a tonne, however, and she had to keep stopping to catch her breath and loosen her arms before continuing.

In all it took her nearly twenty minutes to drag Jaxon's body into the shuttle bay and seal the doors behind her. She made sure he was comfortable, even unconscious, before climbing into the cockpit and firing up the engines. She breathed deeply and tried to remember her master's teachings. _Be mindful of your emotions. Focus on the present. Be calm of mind_. She had never flown a shuttle before. The Force tingled all around her, on every dial and button and lever on the control panel before her, whispering to her and teaching her how to commandeer the shuttle. She followed its instructions and gingerly manipulated the controls. On her command, with a sickening lurch underneath her seat, the shuttle sprung into the air. She let out a happy whoop of victory, and then orientated the shuttle in the general direction of the village. _There is no emotion; there is only peace_. She gunned the throttle.

_There is no emotion, there is only peace._

_ There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge._

_ There is no passion, there is serenity._

_ There is no death, there is the Force._

Jaxon Karr stood meditating in the grand promenade of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Here he was at peace, serene; calm; at one with the living Force. A glorious golden evening sun slowly slid its way down the sky behind him, casting an orange glow over the great capital. From on high, the hum of speeder engines along the skylanes that criss-crossed all over the planet was almost muted, replaced by the sound of rushing water from the fountains, the laughter of some of the younglings and passionate discussions between some of the older apprentices. The temple wasn't just a place for policymaking in the Order: it was a house of learning, of spirituality and a home to so many hundreds.

A cool breeze swept over the promenade, ruffling Jaxon's hair soothingly. He had only just started to let it grow out; many male Jedi grew their hair, and Jaxon had grown to quite admire the style. It would be some months before he could boast a mane to rival Lord Hoth's or, dare he say it, Master Farfalla's, but he felt that he had made an auspicious start nonetheless. Jaxon concentrated on his breathing, ensuring his breaths came slow and deep, keeping his mind devoid of all thought as he focused on the rising and falling of his chest.

Before the first footstep on pavement resounded out across the promenade, Jaxon could already sense a familiar presence coming up behind him. He exhaled gently before turning around slowly to greet the tall, dark haired man who was striding over to him, hands clasped behind his back. Meeting the new arrival's broad beam with his own, Jaxon nodded his head in friendly recognition.

'I thought I might find you here,' Skere Kaan said warmly, holding out a hand for Jaxon to clasp in a brotherly embrace. 'Ever the diligent student and dutiful cleric is Jaxon Karr.'

'Diligence and duty are the nature of all Jedi,' Jaxon responded in a tone that was more imperious than he had meant it to be.

'You needn't preach to me, Karr,' Kaan said with a full-bellied laugh, slapping Jaxon hard between the shoulder blades, 'you're not a Master _yet_.' The two friends began to stroll down the path around the mighty structure of the temple. As they walked, older Jedi nodded in recognition of the two, while younger students, who had not yet come to know the regular faces, kept their eyes pinned to the floor lest one of the two Knights berate them for some minor infraction. With the evening waning, however, the promenade was virtually deserted, and the two men could carry on their conversation in peace.

'A Master...' Jaxon shook his head as he repeated the words. 'I'm assigned my first apprentice tomorrow,' he said absent-mindedly. 'A young girl; Amely Cora.'

'I know of her,' a knowing smirk crossed Kaan's face, and he stroked his thick beard thoughtfully. 'I pushed to take her on as my own apprentice myself, but the Council evidently thought you better suited to the task.'

Jaxon raised an eyebrow; he had not known this. 'What do you know of her?'

'For a girl so young, she is remarkably beautiful,' he shrugged, 'stunningly so. And spectacularly gifted in the ways of the Force. She has a fiery disposition; a fierce and belligerent attitude that I fear is to be wasted on the stifling dogma of the Council.' Jaxon let a bemused smile play across his lips. Skere Kaan's disdain for Jedi tenets was well-known, one of the things that had endeared the controversial Knight so much to Jaxon. 'What I wouldn't do to have her as my own; I trust you'll guide her well in her studies, Karr.'

'I can only hope so,' Jaxon admitted. 'I don't have as much faith in my tutorship abilities as the Council seem to think I do.' He swallowed. 'I keep trying to remember the words of the Code, searching for some hidden wisdom in them. There is no emotion; there is only peace. Keeping the mind at peace when the heart is so full of doubt and uncertainty, though...' he shook his head, '...that is a power I only wish I could master.'

'What _hidden wisdom_ do you honestly hope to find in the Code of the Jedi?' Kaan let out a barking laugh. 'Of all the ridiculous notions the Jedi hold to with such superstitious fervour, the Code is the worst. Please. _There is no passion, there is serenity_? You would think some of these old fossils have never stopped foot outside the Temple before. Go not ten yards down the street from the eastern passage and you'll find some shady dwellings that _most certainly_ lay waste to that tired old supposition.' Skere Kaan laughed again, and stopped so that he was in front of Jaxon. He put a comforting hand on Jaxon's shoulder. 'Don't worry about Codes or tenets or dogma; the most important thing in teaching another person is to follow your heart. Listen to it, and trust in it, and it shall not lead you astray. It may even surprise you, where you find yourself ending up.'

Jaxon smiled warmly at Kaan, and opened his mouth to reply...but suddenly found that he could not see his old friend anymore. His face had become disfigured, morphed, surreal. A bright light shone through where once had been Skere Kaan's nose and mouth, and his eyebrows danced and waved about like tree leaves caught in a breeze. Suddenly, the cool air of Coruscant was hot and sticky, and Jaxon was suddenly acutely aware of aches and pains creaking their way through every muscle and bone in his body.

Jaxon groaned, and suddenly realised that he was awake.

His eyes were open, his vision grudgingly sharpening and bringing into focus the husk of a dwelling that had its roof torn off. Great long branches from low-hanging trees now hung into the room, the jungle threatening to swallow up the building along with everything else. On a makeshift steel table next to him Jaxon saw various medical supplies laid out; bandages, gauze, bacta syringes...he was, however, untouched and unharmed, save for the aches all over his body. None of it had been applied to him.

There came a noise to his left, and Jaxon turned his head to the side to see Samara rooting in a bag by the side of the far wall, her blue lekku twitching impatiently as she searched for whatever it was she was looking for. Giving up her search, Samara let out a sigh and turned back around, eyes growing wide when she saw Jaxon staring blankly back at her.

'You're awake!' she said in surprise, eyebrows raised. 'You Jedi amaze me. A fall like that should have broken every bone in your body...but here you are.' She shook her head in disbelief and smiled.

Jaxon looked around him, his mind failing to understand. 'How...how did I get back here?' he tried to remember the sequence of events that had led to his being knocked unconscious. He remembered the Sith, and his heart froze in his chest. _A Sith Lord on Akasha_..._did it have something to do with the _Serendipity,_ or the holocron of Lord Kyros_...? He shuddered, but elected to deal with such questions later. For now, all he could remember was being kicked off the roof of the hangar they had fought on...and waking up here. 'I don't remember anything that happened after I fell...'

'You fell?' Samara stroked her chin thoughtfully. 'That makes sense, Amely said she found out—'

'_Amely_?' Jaxon sat bolt upright. '_Amely_ went after me? I thought I told you to keep her here!'

'She would have none of it!' Samara protested, 'she refused to let you go by yourself – and just as well! Who knows what may have befallen you if she didn't go after you in time to find you! And, for what it's worth,' Samara shuffled awkwardly where she stood, all of a sudden looking nothing like the fierce and blooded guerrilla sniper Jaxon knew her to be, 'I wasn't about to stand up to a Jedi Knight.'

'_Apprentice_,' Jaxon hissed, though he felt his anger dissipating as he realised the truth in Samara's words. His heart swelled with pride for Amely, and...and something else. 'She's just an apprentice yet, and she would do well to remember that.' Jaxon rubbed his face with his hands.

'I can go get her if you want to see her,' Samara ventured, and Jaxon suddenly remembered her probing questions before he'd left for the base. _She knew what he was feeling for Amely_. 'I know she'd be delighted to know you're okay.'

'No, it's fine,' Jaxon swung his legs out over the bed and sat them down on the floor, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. 'I can go to her on my own. I'm feeling alright.' As he spoke, he could feel the Force tingling through his body, sparks of energy attacking every blemish and bruise and sprain, speeding up his healing process so that it occurred in a fraction of the time it would have taken another human. He stood up gingerly, and wobbled a little, and would probably have fallen had Samara not put out an arm to steady him.

'Well, just take it easy,' she said with a grin, and Jaxon nodded gratefully before pushing outside the makeshift infirmary.

Amely was sitting beneath the burnt out canopy of the shop Jaxon had supped with Sela Norr, hours before the two Jedi departed for the Valley of Night. When he saw her, he felt his heart quicken, and a deep abiding longing uncoil in the pit of his stomach. She looked miraculously beautiful in this light, smiling as she chatted carelessly with R1, swinging her legs back and forth beneath the bench she was sat on. He remembered Skere Kaan's words to him at the Jedi Temple before he had met Amely for the first time; to follow his heart in teaching her, and he would be surprised at where it led him...

Amely looked up when she heard her master approach, eyes lighting up to see him unhurt. She hopped off the bench and strode over to greet him – but paused uncertainly when she saw the look in his eyes.

'What did I say to Samara?' Jaxon snapped.

'Master, I...'

'No! What did I say?' he repeated, shocking himself at the flash of anger that was overpowering his instincts in that moment. 'I told her to tell you to stay put. You were injured, unprepared for a fight of one broke out. You could have gotten yourself killed, and...' he felt his voice crack. _Was that it_? Was that what was bothering him? That little Amely could have...he swallowed...could have _died_?

'Had I not shown up when I did, you would have died yourself,' Amely said defiantly, sticking her chin out boldly and puffing out her chest.

'A Jedi Knight knows to follow orders, no matter the implications! How can you expect to lead if you cannot even follow?' he barked, and the anger in his stomach reached a boiling point – he felt is inside him like a white hot flame, the same intoxicating, wonderful energy he had felt when he struck Davan Raan's head from his shoulders in that temple. He felt empowered, invincible, feeding off the fire burning inside him. Amely must have sensed it too, because she recoiled from him and her eyes trailed along the floor.

'I...I'm sorry, master. I didn't mean to disobey your command I just...' she flicked her eyes up to meet Jaxon's tentatively; big, round, green and beautiful. Then she flicked them back down to her boots. '...I'm sorry.'

Jaxon felt his rage dissipating. He sighed deeply and crossed the rest of the distance to Amely, suddenly overcome with affection – _or something stronger?_ – for the young padawan. He put out a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. 'Without you...' he conceded, '...I do not know what may have happened to me. Thank you.' She looked up into his eyes unsurely, but he gave her another reassuring squeeze and smiled warmly at her. 'Thank you. I mean it.'

Amely returned the smile and then, to Jaxon's utter bewilderment, threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Jaxon's eyes went wide and he hesitated for a moment before putting his own arms around her waist and hugging her back tightly. Eventually she broke from him, and skipped back over to the bench, where R1 was whirring and beeping in approval.

'Boxy thought you weren't going to make it,' she quipped happily, 'I said to him that, Master Jaxon is old, sure, but not _that_ old. Now Boxy owes me ten credits.'

Jaxon shook his head as he crossed over to sit on the table opposite, boots on its bench. 'What possible use does a droid have for credits? And what have I said about the _old_ thing?'

Amely shrugged. 'When I found you, you were unconscious and surrounded by a couple of grunts. If you're old enough to be overwhelmed by a couple of low-paid thugs with laser rifles, maybe it's time you became...I don't know...a librarian or something, leave all the cool stuff to me.'

Despite himself, Jaxon chuckled. 'I wasn't overwhelmed by the government troops, I was...' he stopped, mouth still open, and felt a shiver run up his spine. He knew exactly what had overwhelmed him. Amely sensed his apprehension, and tilted her head to the side to look at him.

'What's wrong...?' her voice had taken on a serious tone. 'What happened over there...?'

Jaxon looked at her, and saw in her eyes that there was no fooling her. He sighed deeply, and rubbed his temples nervously before at last answering. 'There was a Sith Lord at the base,' he said quietly, and Amely's jaw dropped open. 'Malevent, he called himself. He overpowered me and kicked me off the roof of that hangar but...for some reason...he chose to spare my life. I have no idea where he got to by the time you showed up. He was a S'kytri,' Jaxon continued matter of factly, 'but slighter and faster than I've ever seen one before. And his eyes burned red, another trait not usual to their race. He was a formidable opponent...' Jaxon sighed, '...I may be lucky to have escaped with my life.'

'Do you think he was here investigating the holocron?' Amely asked quickly, and Jaxon was impressed by her sharpness.

'I can't say,' he said truthfully, 'I don't know who he was or what became of him after the fight.'

Amely furrowed her brow and stared thoughtfully down at the floor, R1 behind her beeping slowly away to himself. Suddenly, she looked up at Jaxon, eyes wide in sudden realisation.

'He escaped in a shuttle!' she exclaimed.

'What?'

Amely shook her head quickly, dispelling and then recollecting her thoughts. 'When I arrived at that base, just after the firefight died down...I noticed two shuttles docked on the landing pad. When I found you, there was only one.'

Jaxon nodded his head slowly. It didn't prove anything; anybody could have taken the first shuttle. But given his proximity to the landing pad during the fight it stood to reason that Malevent had escaped in one. Still, it didn't help to locate them, and Jaxon pointed out as much to Amely. Undeterred, Amely held up a hand for patience.

'Wait wait wait, hear me out!' she urged. Jaxon leant in closer so as not to miss a word. 'Back on the _Serendipity_, Davan...' she shuddered as she spoke his name, '...was teaching me about transponders and tight-range tracking devices,' she took a breath to collect her thoughts, and then continued excitedly, her animated hand gestures punctuating each point. 'Military craft, like those shuttles, are fitted with encrypted transponders so that they can be identified by friendly scanners and more easily integrated into a command and control network during a battle. In theory,' she concluded, hopping off the bench and signalling for R1 to follow her, 'any piece of Xyxotl Military equipment with access to planet-wide scanners – like the shuttle I stole, for instance – should be able to locate a sister craft anywhere on the planet. If your Sith Lord hasn't left atmo, we'll be able to track him down.'

Jaxon beamed at his young apprentice, deeply impressed by her intelligence. But not surprised, he reminded himself. This _was_ Amely, after all. Still, he wasn't sure if going after a Sith Lord that had so effortlessly dispatched him just a few hours ago was a prudent course of action. Nonetheless, as Amely strode down the dirt path that cut through the middle of the once thriving village, Jaxon hopped off the table he was sat on to follow her out into a clearing in the jungle where she had landed the spacecraft. He raised an eyebrow, once again impressed by his padawan's skills – she had landed the sluggish and ungainly shuttle in a space not much larger than the ship itself. Amely opened the rear hatch and climbed aboard, R1 wheeling on the ramp behind her. Pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders, Jaxon followed them both inside.

The interior of the shuttle was unsurprisingly Spartan; no different to what one would expect the interior of a military transport ship to look like. Two benches lay along the sides of the rear compartment, complete with crude seatbelts and racks to stow away weapons and armour. While R1 hung back in this compartment, Jaxon and Amely went into the cockpit and sat down side by side as Amely fired up the shuttle's nav computer.

'Using this,' Amely explained, 'we should be able to locate any military ship in operation by the Xyxotl Military,' she keyed in a command into the computer and it began its scanning process. Jaxon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

'How many ships do you think the military has?' he asked. 'What's to say we'll be able to find this _one specific_ shuttle that took off moments before you arrived?'

'Have a bit of faith, master,' Amely purred, punching in a couple more commands into the keypad. 'With a bit of luck, we should be able to...' her voice trailed off and her eyes grew wide. Jaxon looked over at the screen to see what had stunned her to such a degree. '...notice an anomaly...' she gave a quick guffaw in shock, and tapped the screen with a finger. 'Just what would you call _that_?' The map showed a mess of red dots, indicating military transponder frequencies, strewn all over the jungle continent that was obviously the Xyxotl Nation. There was another red dot, however, in the far northern regions of the planet, blinking slowly over what looked to be a polar ice cap. Jaxon's eyes lit up. There was no other Xyxotl military aircraft out that direction; _that_ had to be the Sith Lord. He was sure of it.

'Can you bring up any additional information about it?' Jaxon asked.

'Just a sec...' Amely pressed a key, and the map flashed off to be replaced by a photograph of the shuttle in question as well as rudimentary data. '_Revenant_-class military personnel carrier _Independent_, chartered by the Xyxotl Military Air Command and on loan to the Xyxotl National Army for, it says, the duration of counter-insurgency campaigns in the Ernuvian Basin.' Amely guffawed again in disbelief at their stroke of luck. 'This is your Sith Lord, master!'

Jaxon sat back in his seat, and shook his head slowly. 'Unbelievable...' he muttered. Amely turned in her chair to look at him, her eyes blazing with girlish excitement.

'Are we going to go after him?' she pushed, 'are we going to get a measure of payback for what he did to you?'

Jaxon fixed her with a serious glance. 'Jedi do not seek revenge!' he said sternly. 'We are not creatures of arbitrary passion, giving in to every emotional whim that takes us!' even as he spoke he felt the ground underneath his argument shifting like so many grains of sand. _Falling in love with your young padawan certainly _sounds_ like arbitrary passion_...he thought to himself. Jaxon shook his head, and continued, 'I thought you knew better than that, Amely.'

'I'm sorry...' she sighed, '...I guess I was kinda' excited to test myself against a real Sith Lord. After what happened to Master Severus...'

'You saw what he did to me,' Jaxon replied calmly, 'I shudder to think of what would have happened to you in that same situation.'

Amely bit her bottom lip and stared up at Jaxon. He stroked his chin for a few seconds, and then said, 'We must go to the Wiseman. Perhaps he can make sense of what is going on.'

Amely nodded curtly and sprung from her chair, striding briskly back out of the shuttle with R1 fast on her heels. Jaxon remained seated for a few seconds. He ran his fingers through his long hair and mused on the disaster their mission of mercy had been. Here he was, halfway across the galaxy, on the trail of a highly powerful Sith Lord. Having already fallen hard for his own apprentice. Jaxon pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. All he could do was hope that the Republic had received his transmission and got a ship out to them quickly – the faster he could relinquish his tutorship of little Amely, and resign himself to a life of quiet study and meditation, the better, he felt.

He rejoined Amely back in the village, where she and R1 stood patiently outside the abandoned library, one of the few buildings that, while scarred in the sudden raid that had destroyed the village, had not been demolished outright. Jaxon held the door open for her and, after instructing Boxy to wait outside for her, Amely entered the library with Jaxon behind her.

'Is this it?' Amely said disappointedly. 'Seems like a silly place for a wizard to live...'

Not responding, Jaxon crossed the floor of the room to the false shelf and reached out with the Force to pull it aside. He heard Amely gasp behind him.

'Cool!' she whispered. 'A secret passageway!'

'All the things we've seen around the galaxy,' Jaxon said shaking his head, 'and you're still wowed by hidden staircases behind a bookshelf.'

'I just haven't lost my sense of adventure yet, master,' Amely said vibrantly, pushing against Jaxon to hurry him on down the passage. His heart singing for her, Jaxon grinned and led the way into the dark underbelly of the Wiseman's lair.

In the centre of the dark circular room, the Wiseman sat with his eyes affixed to the opening through which Jaxon and Amely entered. He had been expecting them, it appeared, and without saying a word he bid both of them to sit in front of him. Cross legged, both Jedi took their seats as the Wiseman cast his gaze over young Amely. At length, he turned his attention to Jaxon.

'I can see why you care for her,' he said, and Jaxon felt the clang of mortification in his heart as he looked over to Amely to judge her reaction. She didn't seem to have heard; she was gazing in amazement at the little room, the bust still draped in shadow to the left, the starmap behind the Wiseman, the candles that lay around the circumference flickering daintily in the darkness.

'You know why we're here?' Jaxon asked quietly, ignoring the Wiseman's probe. The Wiseman nodded determinedly.

'You seek information on a Sith Lord,' he said slowly, and his eyes again blazed with yellow fire. Jaxon shuffled uncomfortably where we sat.

'Did you know he was here?' Jaxon asked, to which the Wiseman shook his head.

'When your able apprentice returned you to Samara's care, I sensed the taint of the Dark Side upon you,' the Wiseman said slowly, 'you duelled and were defeated by a Sith Lord, were you not?'

Jaxon bowed his head sheepishly. 'He went by the name of Malevent,' Jaxon said slowly, 'he was at the military base at the same time I was, and he escaped by shuttle when rebels attacked.'

'We were able to track him down, mister, sir,' Amely piped up with a nervous cough, 'his shuttle's transponder places him somewhere on the north pole. We can't figure out why.'

The Wiseman's eyes grew wide, and he sucked in a hiss of breath between his teeth. Jaxon and Amely exchanged looks, then turned their attention back to the old man, who had stood up and crossed over to the bust, placing his hand upon it in silent contemplation. Eventually the Wiseman released the stone statue from his palm and retook his place opposite the two Jedi, his legs crossed.

'I had heard rumours...' he whispered, '...but never did I for a moment believe...' he shook his head.

'What is it...?' Jaxon asked, leaning forwards.

The Wiseman scratched his chin before speaking. 'There was talk, in the months before your unfortunate arrival on this planet, that there were private interests operating in the polar regions of Akasha, believed to be leading an excavation for the tomb of the Mournful Queen.'

'The...Mournful Queen?' it was Amely who spoke up.

The Wiseman nodded his head. 'Queen Nixis, who ruled Akasha nearly two millennia ago.'

'What would a Sith Lord want with an ancient queen's tomb...?' Jaxon asked out loud.

A shadow crossed the Wiseman's face. 'Her mother's holocron, master Jedi,' came his cold response.

'Another holocron...?' Jaxon exclaimed. 'An Akashan queen's mother was...a Sith?'

The Wiseman nodded, and as he did the small room seemed to darken as he gathered his breath to speak. 'Akasha's history is dripping with the influence of the Dark Side of the Force, Jedi.' As he spoke, his voice seemed to reverberate around the room, coming from everywhere at once in a low, unsettling boom. 'After over a thousand years of disunity and near-constant warfare, Queen Nixis' mother, Sydia, a Dark Lady of the Sith, managed to unite the nations of Akasha under her rule into what became a golden age for this planet. Under her guidance Akasha was peacefully annexed to the resurgent Sith Empire, and under her rule, sent its men and women to die in the Imperial armies against the Galactic Republic during the Great War. It was during this war that Sydia was murdered by her own daughter, Nixis, who came to power in a palace coup.'

'And that was why they called her the Mournful Queen,' Amely ventured, 'because she murdered her own mother?'

The Wiseman nodded, and, again, Jaxon was immensely proud of his apprentice. 'Her mind was unable to bear with what she had done,' the Wiseman continued, 'and, corrupted by the intoxicating influence of the Dark Side, it snapped. Nixis, now queen, would wander the halls of her palace, wailing long into the night, frightening servants and guards alike with her haunting sobs and moans. When she eventually died – just three years before the Treaty of Coruscant ended the war – she was buried along with her mother's holocron, to give her some measure of peace.'

'And it is this holocron, in Queen Nixis' tomb, that this Dark Lord of the Sith desires...' Jaxon finished.

'Queen Sydia was believed to be adept in the dark arts of Sith Alchemy,' the Wiseman stated. 'Your Sith Lord is not just after a holocron; he is after the secrets that went to the grave with Sydia and her daughter.'

'We have to stop him, master,' Amely whispered, and Jaxon turned his head to see his apprentice regarding him with a determined fire in her eyes. 'Nothing the Sith could do with that knowledge could be any good. We have to stop them.'

'You saw what happened to me,' Jaxon replied to her, 'I can't very well take my apprentice into danger like that, not when we don't know just what to expect...'

'_Master Jaxon_,' Amely urged, 'we're Jedi Knights! It is our sworn duty to protect the people of the galaxy – not just in the Republic, but _all of the galaxy_. If this Sith wants to use the powers of an ancient Sith Lady to rule Akasha, it is our duty to stop that. Our duty as Knights.'

Jaxon was blown away by the passionate plea in Amely's voice, and he could sense by the Wiseman's amazed stare that he was, likewise, impressed.

'The child knows her place in the world,' he noted with a twinkle in his eye. Jaxon grimaced. He could see the truth in Amely's words, and knew there was no talking her away from this course of action. She was completely right, anyway. Dangers notwithstanding, it was their sworn duty as Jedi to protect the galaxy from the ravages of the Sith. Malevent's quest for the holocron of Queen Sydia was no different.

The following morning they broke their fast on a bowl of the orange goo Zivo had introduced them to, prepared by Samara. As she helped Amely pack up the shuttle with supplies appropriate to the sub-zero climes of the north pole, Jaxon meditated on the task before them both. Maybe it was the will of the Force that they had arrived here, just as a Sith Lord attempted to extricate an artefact of unknowable power and evil from an ancient tomb. He had already secured one holocron in his time here; it still lay beneath the library in the lair of the Wiseman. Maybe it was meant to be that they find and secure a second. The thought did little to relax Jaxon; he was still going into battle against a Sith Lord who had quite easily dispatched him, and this time with Amely to worry about as well.

_There is no emotion, there is only peace_.

He realised he _had_ to banish his feelings for her. They were leading him astray, pushing down a dark path that he could already feel gnawing at his heart whenever he thought back to the surge of power he felt on the two occasions since crashing on this planet where he had given in to his anger. Harbouring such thoughts for his apprentice was endangering them both, especially if, when the time came, he was more focused on looking after her than fighting with Malevent. One way or the other, it would be two against one – they would have an advantage over the Sith Lord.

He opened his eyes, and took in the sight of the shuttle, its hull glistening in the early morning sunlight. 'Come on, Boxy!' Amely was calling, leading the little droid up the ramp, 'we're going on an adventure!' Samara, with a concerned look on her face, was striding over to Jaxon.

'Will you be alright out there?' she asked, to which Jaxon nodded his head. 'Your feelings for her...' Samara said unsurely, pausing for a second to gauge his reaction. When Jaxon said nothing, she continued. '...don't you Jedi frown upon that sort of thing? Won't that get in the way of your mission?'

'Only if I allow it to,' Jaxon said slowly. 'A Jedi knows to be mindful of his feelings, and not to let them cloud his judgement. This...' he nodded towards the ship, Amely having already disappeared into its belly, '...this is no different.'

'I hope to see you both again, safe and sound, soon,' Samara said, squeezing Jaxon's wrist firmly before helping him with the last of the supplies. They pushed it into the cargo hold and then Jaxon ascended the ramp after it.

'Thank you, Samara,' he said with a nod, 'for everything. We will pay you and the Wiseman a visit again before we leave this planet.'

'Good luck, master Jedi,' Samara called back after him, 'and may the Force be with you.'


	9. Chapter 9

Apologies; again, this is another example of my eyes being too big for my own good. This is another chapter I've had to cut in half in terms of what I actually wanted to cover in it because it grew too long to throw up all in one go. Anyways hope you guys enjoy and I'll aim to have Chapter 10 up ASAP!

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**CHAPTER NINE**

"**Across the Ice"**

Akasha's north pole stretched on from horizon to horizon, a sheet of white beneath a sheet of white. Snow bluffs and icecaps rolled below underneath the shuttle as it glided across the skies, silence thick in the air between the two Jedi piloting the vessel. Jaxon Karr, manning the controls, sat with his eyes dead set ahead on the far horizon, vigilant for any sign of life in the desolate wasteland of Akasha's fifth continent. The transponder beacon from the Sith's shuttle had gone dead just over two hours ago, and as a result the Jedi had had to slow their flight and conduct a painfully lethargic search with the ship's on-board scanners. So far, as Amely had put it, _zippo_. Next to Jaxon, his young apprentice sat in the co-pilot's chair with her hood drawn up and legs tucked into her chest against the cold. Military transport ships deployed to humid jungle regions did not, surprisingly, come equipped with on-board heating, a fact that Amely had come to lament. Jaxon had attempted to turn it into an exercise – he tried teaching her to meditate and using the energies of the Force to warm herself, and though that had kept her occupied for half an hour, she eventually got bored and went into the back to play with Boxy. Now she had returned, and sat shivering in the seat next to Jaxon.

'Cold planets are stupid,' Amely muttered grimly, twirling a lock of brown hair around her finger.

'Akasha isn't a cold planet,' Jaxon responded disinterestedly, eyes still sweeping the horizon for signs of life, 'it has multiple biomes. We just happen to be flying over a cold continent.'

'Biomes are stupid,' Amely complained, 'even the Force feels different out here.'

'There's less life in icy tundra like this,' Jaxon nodded in agreement, 'and that which is here has adopted over millions of years to survive it. As a result, you are not used to feeling their presence. So the Force feels distorted.'

'I hope one day in years to come I become a wise and powerful Jedi Master,' Amely said dryly, 'and be as knowledgeable and boring as you.'

Not acknowledging her playful barb, Jaxon leaned forward and clicked a switch on the control panel. 'Not all study of the Force is particularly stimulating,' he said in a monotone voice, 'in fact quite a lot of it can be tedious. But hard work and study, too, is a form of meditation in of itself. You need to learn to take that along with the rest of it to become a good Jedi Knight.'

Amely let out a deep sigh, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Then she stopped suddenly and leaned forwards, planting her boots on the steel floor and twiddling a knob on the dashboard. 'Picking up something on the long range scanners,' she said quickly, eyes wide, 'turn west by northwest and continue on that bearing for about a click.'

'You got it...' Jaxon affirmed, manipulating the sticks in his hand to steer the craft according to Amely's instruction.

'See, master?' she quipped, a bit of life flowing back into her, 'isn't this way more fun than old books and studying the theory of the Force for hours on end in the great library?'

'Focus, Amely,' Jaxon said calmly, levelling out the ship, 'you need to be prepared for what is to come. We don't know what we may be walking into.' He increased the ship's acceleration, then said, 'what is it you're reading?'

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Amely studying the scanners intently. 'I'm not sure – definitely life forms of some kind. Multiple. A lot of them, all massed around one single area...'

'That must be the excavation site,' Jaxon nodded, remembering the Wiseman's words. 'Can you bring up a topographical map of the region? Try to find somewhere for us to land. We'll continue the rest of the way on foot so as not to tip them off.'

'The site seems to be inset in an ice field...' Amely bit her bottom lip, her face illuminated by the readouts on the screen in front of her, '...there's nowhere nearby that looks stable enough to land.'

'Where's the closest solid ground in relation to the site?'

'Umm...' Amely tapped a few keys gingerly, '...looks like we're coming up on it now; a ridge overlooking the ice shelf. Should be able to land on top of it and make our way down.'

'I see it,' Jaxon said. It had taken a while to spot against the white nothingness of the wasteland, but sure enough, coming up hard and fast in front of the shuttle now was a large outcrop of white rock and ice that lifted into the sky, making the perfect natural landing pad.

Jaxon slowed the throttle down to a crawl and expanded the landing gear as well as withdrawing the shuttle's great wings, coming to a gentle vertical landing on the zenith of the small mountain. Quiet descended over them as the two Jedi powered down the ship, the hum of its engines quickly replaced by the mournful howling of the bitter winds outside.

'Take everything you can carry,' Jaxon instructed his apprentice as she unclipped her belt and hopped out of the cockpit into the cargo bay in the back of the ship, 'and dress up with all the warm clothes Samara left for you. We're taking no chances.'

'Of course, master,' Amely taunted, 'you always know what's best for me!'

Jaxon ignored her and joined her in the bay of the ship. His mind was set with grim determination. He knew how lucky he was to have survived his first encounter with Darth Malevent, and was fully aware of the danger that faced him and his apprentice. This trek would be the most dangerous journey they had ever taken together, and all he could do was hope that Amely could rise to the occasion.

They got to work unloading the equipment and winter gear Samara had packed for them. As well as snow boots, white snow coats and even special thermal padding to be slipped on under their clothes, Samara had provided scarves, goggles and even blasters. Though they discarded the guns, they elected to carry as much water and rations as they could without hampering their mobility. As Jaxon set about laying out supplies for them both, Amely began to strip down to slip the thermal padded suit over her underwear. Jaxon caught sight of her pale skin out of the corner of his eyes and instinctively turned his head for a better look.

He swallowed hard.

The young padawan was beautiful, her figure stunning and dangerously enticing. He felt a primal beast stir in the pit of his stomach and felt himself go slightly lightheaded – but just as soon as she'd stripped off, Amely had zipped the thermal suit up around her and was pulling back on her clothes, to be followed by the warm coat, hood and boots and, finally, the belt to which she clipped her lightsaber, which went on last over everything else.

'Ready, master?' Amely asked as she turned around, not noticing the expression in Jaxon's eyes. Taking a breath, Jaxon indicated to Amely which pile of rations were hers, and she crossed over to scoop them up as Jaxon crossed over to where she'd been standing to, likewise, change into his winter gear.

He had just clipped his belt around him, checking to make sure his lightsaber was secure, when he felt the tingling in the Force a fraction of a second before the first tremor. Both he and Amely stopped what they were doing as the floor beneath them shook and a low rumble filled the air. After a second, it passed, and the two of them remained silent, eyes flicking to and fro, waiting for another tremor. When it didn't come, Amely breathed a sigh of relief.

'I think that was just your stomach, mast—' she was cut off again by a loud crack, followed by a quake twice the magnitude of the first. Jaxon reacted immediately.

'_GO, GO, GO_!' he shouted, 'Get out of here, quick!'

'But the supplies!' Amely protested.

'Leave them! Get out, this whole ridge is coming down!' the roar of the quake was deafening now, and as he fought to get to the access ramp Jaxon could barely keep his balance with the shaking of the ship beneath his feet. He managed to smash the emergency release button, and the cargo bay turned red with warning klaxons as the rear service ramp slowly distended from the belly of the shuttle.

When the opening had widened just enough for Amely's slender frame to squeeze through, Jaxon boosted her up and through it, throwing her pack of supplies out after her.

'WHAT ABOUT BOXY?' he heard her shout from the other side. Cursing under his breath, Jaxon spun around, not about to let young Amely go without her prized droid. He found the little R1 unit in the corner of the hold, powered down to conserve energy. Racing over to it as fast as the tremors shaking the ship asunder would allow, Jaxon hoisted the droid into the air, arms screaming at the weight, and marched back over to the ramp. By now it had deployed enough for him to slide Boxy out of the ship – aided by the gentle push of the Force – to Amely in the snow below. Finally, Jaxon spun around one final time to fetch his pack of supplies and join Amely outside...

...just as the rock under the shuttle buckled and fell from the ridge, taking the ship down with it. Jaxon was jolted backwards by the movement, smashing his head against the lip of the bay opening and sliding out of the access hatch.

The world tumbled around Jaxon in a myriad of whites, greys and blues as he smashed blindly against anything and everything that followed him down the avalanche to the snow of the ground below.

He hit the bottom with a bang that knocked the wind out of him. Jaxon moaned at the agonising combination of pain and cold that overwhelmed him. He reached a hand up to brush snow out of his face and, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, realised he was buried from the stomach down in snow and ice, only the top half of his torso and arms free from the debris of the avalanche. A few yards to the left of where he lay, disoriented and battered, the wreckage of the shuttle lay semi-submersed in arctic water through where it had smashed into the ice sheet below the ridge. He watched as it gradually slipped deeper and deeper beneath the surface of the water.

Jaxon tried to remove himself from his predicament, but found that he couldn't – the snow, ice and rock was already frozen solid, trapping him where he lay. He tried punching with a fist through the debris to reach his lightsaber, but he couldn't muster the strength to make a dent in the ice. Momentarily defeated, he lay back in the snow and sucked in deep, icy lungfuls of air, trying to come up with a plan of action.

A sudden tingle in the base of his skull caused him to snap back to the present again. He could feel vibrations in the Force warning him of imminent danger. He could sense something moving sluggishly towards him, something heavy, something large, and with hostile intent. Feeling his stomach lurch in momentary fear, Jaxon strained his neck to look around for the source of the disturbance.

Tilting his head back as far as it could go, he found he was able to look, upside down, at the sight directly behind him – and straight at the wampa that was stalking towards him. Jaxon's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Standing over seven feet tall, its thick white fur matted with red blood, two horns curled down either side of a squashed, ugly face, claws sickeningly unsheathed from flat saucepans of paws, the snow monster was a terrifying sight.

Forcing himself to keep calm, Jaxon began smashing the debris again with his fist, then started clawing desperately at it to try and retrieve his lightsaber. He felt the beast behind him, heard each footstep as it lurched towards him and the low growl emanating from its throat. Through the living Force he could feel the wampa drawing ever closer and, now with both hands, Jaxon continued digging furiously but in vain into the mess of debris to try and reach his belt.

There came a roar from right behind him, and Jaxon tilted his head back just in time to see the beast lifting one giant paw and reaching for him. Jaxon managed to twist out of the way at the very last second, leaving the wampa's paw to harmlessly pad the snow inches from Jaxon's right ear. He was able to foresee the monster's left arm coming down to grab him and immediately twisted in the opposite direction. The monster roared in frustration, but Jaxon knew the entirety of his options to avoid it in this situation had been exhausted – next it would simply clamp down on him with both hands and finish him off then and there.

Jaxon tried squirming his legs, but they refused to move under the crushing weight of the snow and ice. He ground his teeth together, trying to summon the Force to him in one last ditch effort to...

...there was a bursting sound, and a white figure swept across Jaxon's field of vision, the green blade of a lightsaber arcing behind her as she slashed in one smooth and perfectly aimed movement at the beast. The creature hadn't even time to let out a howl of pain before the upper half of its torso slid gruesomely from the lower, hitting the ground with an ugly squelch. The white snow was dashed with an unsightly pool of dark red blood that spread along the ground towards where Jaxon lay. He groaned in disgust, but was nonetheless grateful to Amely for her timely save. Standing over him, scarf covering her mouth and nose, the beautiful padawan's eyes danced with the thrill of the rescue. Her green lightsaber hummed by her side, and R1, wheeling suddenly into view, beeped contentedly.

'Looks like you owe me another one, master!' Amely's muffled voice sounded delighted with herself underneath her mask. Jaxon stopped struggling and relaxed again, lying back into the snow, unable to feel its cold grip through the layers of thermal protection he had on.

'Hurry up and...get me out of her,' he panted, 'I can't reach my lightsaber from here.'

'Hold still...' Amely said, standing over him and leaning forwards, '...I don't want to accidentally perform surgery on you or anything.' With care and precision Amely slid the glowing blade of her saber into the ice, sending up greats wafts of steam into the air as the plasma melted away the frozen snow and rock. She struggled to cut through the rock, but nonetheless persevered, groaning with exertion as she dragged the blade across and around Jaxon's torso, cutting him out of the avalanche. At last, she had finished, and as she extinguished her lightsaber Jaxon wormed his way out from underneath the rubble. His legs had almost gone numb at this point, but he took a few seconds to walk off the sensation before thanking Amely again and checking his belt to make sure his lightsaber had come out of the snow with him.

'Looks like this is a one way trip...' Amely said unsurely as her eyes swept the scene, only to fall on the tail fin of the shuttle now being swallowed up in the ice. Jaxon brushed snow from his leggings before replying.

'The Sith Lord arrived at the site sure enough on his own; they must have some way to land equipment and ships near the excavation without cracking the ice. When the time comes, we'll just have to commandeer one of their vessels.'

'Oh, great,' Amely rolled her eyes, 'that's going to be easy.'

'Come on, Amely,' Jaxon nudged her and smiled cruelly, 'where's your sense of adventure?'

Amely groaned. 'Shut up,' she replied.

Before the two Jedi left the shuttle to its fate and carried on their journey on foot, Amely took a tracking device from her pack – the only pack that had survived the avalanche – and handed it to R1. 'Stay here, Boxy,' she commanded, 'this is no place for a droid!' R1 whirred his compliance, and then, giving her master a firm nod, they set off over the sea of ice.

Jaxon was surprised at how adept their winter clothing was at keeping the chill of the arctic weather from their bones. The going was, nonetheless, tough, as the winds had picked up since the avalanche and blew tufts of snow into their faces, causing them to snap on their goggles and brace themselves against the wind. Twice, Amely slipped and fell over, and Jaxon went back to help her up from the treacherous ice. They said very little to each other, conserving their energy for the arduous trek, but silently Jaxon swelled with affection for his padawan. She was, despite her fiery independence that sometimes bordered on intransigence, nonetheless a determined and able student. If they ever got back to Coruscant, Jaxon predicted her future lay in a more frontline role, perhaps serving one of the Jedi Lords on the worlds outside the reach of the Republic, rather than as a diplomat or counsellor in the realm of politics.

Pushing constantly against the wall of screaming wind that seemed determined to hamper their every footstep began at last to take its toll on both Jedi. Jaxon could feel his muscles start to burn with exertion, and sense Amely's strength wavering beside him. He urged her on with throwaway lines of encouragement, but as they crested a small snow bluff he knew she couldn't continue by strength of will alone.

'Amely,' Jaxon shouted to be heard over the roar of the wind, stopping and putting his arms on her shoulders to stare into the goggles strapped on her face, 'focus. Use the Force. Let it flow through you and imbue you with its strength. You can do this, I know you can, you just need to clear your mind. Become one with the living Force.'

Almost immediately, he could feel his apprentice gathering the Force to her, eyes shut, concentrating on her breathing and trying, against all her discomfort, to slip into a meditative state. A moment passed, and then he heard her grunt in frustration.

'It's no use!' she wailed, 'I can't get enough of a grip on it out here in the sticks!'

'_Clear your mind_,' Jaxon spat through the folds of his scarf, bewailing his student's lack of emotional control. 'This is a surer test of your mastery of the Force than any other you have ever faced! And in this climate you cannot afford to let yourself down!' He stepped forwards and enveloped her in his arms, hugging her close to his chest and letting the Force flow from him into her. He felt her tense up in his embrace and then, gradually, relax as she focused on the living Force and tried to draw strength from it.

Through the Force Jaxon could feel her skin, like a furnace underneath her layers of clothes, trying to warm itself and power the exhausted muscles that lay beneath. He gripped her tighter still, letting his energy field intermingle with hers and his mastery of the Force to overlap with her struggles to bring it to bear in this place. He could feel the flutter of her heart, calm and confident as she concentrated on what she was doing. He could feel, through the Force, the rising and falling of her breast in time with each shuddering breath. Then, in his mind's eye, he saw the Force like a golden light, lifting up through the naked skin of her body and shining all over her. Amely's mouth opened and she let out a gasp, and then shuddered violently in his embrace. When it has passed, she pushed away and looked up into her master's eyes.

She was rejuvenated.

'What was that...?' she whispered, and even with the screaming of the wind around them Jaxon was able to hear her.

'The Force naturally heals a Jedi,' he answered preachingly, 'but it takes immense concentration and power to be able to harness that natural healing and implement it at will – to be able to, in effect, heal yourself just be commanding the Force to do so. That is what you did, with my help – you breathed life back into your exhausted frame.' Amely, still with her master's arms around her, was silent in contemplation for a moment. Jaxon cut her off before she could say anything. 'But, come; this is not the time or the place for lessons. We have a reason for being here!'

'Right!' Amely wriggled out of Jaxon's grasp and, with a new spring in her step, carried on the trek in the direction, they hoped, of the excavation site. Jaxon continued alongside her, lost in thought.

_She wasn't able to clear her mind and focus on the Force in a dangerous situation_, he thought to himself. _At her age she should be so well practised in it that it comes as second nature_. He cast a look in her direction as she ploughed on over the ice, freshly empowered. _She is a creature of passion and action; meditation and quiet study holds no interests for her. She yearns for the fight to come_. Jaxon shuddered. _Was that a path to the Dark Side..._? _But then, doesn't Skere Kaan speak out against the dogmatic humility of the Order_? _Is it not two sides of the same coin; passion for life, and contemplation of life_?_ Are both not equal ways to harness and honour the power of the Force_? He bit his bottom lip as he walked. _And can I even watch and judge her for passion, when I've been gripped by it on her account ever since the Valley of Night_? Jaxon shivered against the cold, and felt that familiar and all too seductive fire in his belly that he had felt in the Temple of Kyros, and again when he had been furious at Amely in the village. He didn't know what it was – or, rather, he refused to acknowledge what he thought it was.

_The Dark Side is everywhere_.

'Do you feel that, master?' Amely said quietly, snapping Jaxon back to reality. He hesitated, focusing back on the present, and realised that he could. He nodded. With the Force he found a large bluff, just a few yards away from where they were now, which would provide perfect cover from where they could see what it was they were sensing – they had arrived at the site.

Both Jedi hit the ground and crawled up the bluff on their stomachs, coming up over the lip of the natural berm. They found themselves looking into what appeared to be a massive crater, bordered with a circumference of snow berms similar to the one they lay on now. In the centre there was a hive of activity buzzing around a palatial structure built seemingly entirely of ice. Trucks carried cartloads of rock and ice away from the site to deposit them by the berms, while temporary landing pads hovered over a mess of barracks in one corner of the site. _That was how they were landing ships_, Jaxon registered, _hover pads_!

'So...' Amely said next to him, '...this is where they bury Sith Ladies.' She paused. 'It's sort of pretty.'

'Do you have the scope that Samara gave you?' Jaxon asked. Amely nodded, and reached a hand into the pocket of her trousers, padding aimlessly at one, then the other, then pausing to think and, finally, reaching into a pocket on her belt.

'Here it is...' she said, placing the detachable sniper scope to her eye. She strained and fiddled with it as she looked out over the excavation site. 'Yeah...' she breathed , '...those are Sith troopers, all over the place, armed to the teeth. Rifles, blasters, vibroblades...' she lowered the scope and sighed before handing it to Jaxon for him to take a look. 'We're going to have to fight our way in.'

Jaxon put the scope up to his eye and glanced around. 'Why do I get the feeling you were hoping we would have to fight our way in...' he trailed off as he caught sight of a patrol of armoured troops striding casually across his field of vision. 'I see them now. Yeah, those are Sith troopers alright...' he took stock of two of them standing guard, black-and-red helmets masking their facial features. 'I don't recognise the unit markings though.'

'They're Sith,' Amely retorted as she fumbled at her belt, 'all we need to know is where they are.' She unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and held it in front of her, staring vehemently across the ice sheet.

'Control your anger,' Jaxon snapped, lowering the scope from his eye. 'We need a plan. I think it's sort of inadvisable to just rush in headlong into them all, don't you?'

Amely bit her bottom lip in concentration as she surveyed the scene in front of her. After a long pause, she laughed. 'I think I have an idea.'

...and that was how Jaxon came to be striding across the ice, hood drawn up over his head, walking headlong into a company's worth of Sith troopers.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

"**Entombed"**

It was a sentry who spotted the hooded figure crossing the ice sheet towards the excavation, through the scope of his sniper rifle. At first he couldn't believe what he was seeing – there wasn't another settlement for miles around, for one thing. But yet there the figure was – coming towards the perimeter, arms flailing about erratically, howling in an unnatural moan. The sniper fingered the trigger, but hesitated.

'Sarge?' he shouted down from his crow's nest, 'we've got company.'

'What is it?' Thea, the company First Sergeant, barked back up at him. He lowered his weapons and looked down at her, her dark skin beautifully contrasted against the falling snow.

'I...I don't know, Sarge,' he admitted helplessly. Beneath him Thea strained her eyes to see out over the ice sheet. By now, she could make out the figure clearly, thrashing its arms madly up and down, left and right, howling insanely. Something didn't feel right; she furrowed her brow in contemplation.

'Second Platoon!' she snapped suddenly, and some of the men who had been relaxing around her cracked their heads in her direction. 'You're up! Apprehend the interloper and bring him to me!'

She heard a few grumbles and moans, but the men knew better than to question her orders...lest they be sent to Malevent for reintegration. Even still, she knew she would have to answer for her actions to the Lieutenant later – you did not send twenty five men to apprehend one intruder. But she had been fighting alongside Force Sensitives for as long as she could remember, and out here in the middle of nowhere, at the tomb of an ancient Sith Queen, Thea wasn't about to take any chances.

Second Platoon's NCOs quickly ensured that their troops were equipped and loaded, and gave a quick rundown of what they were going to do. Then they set off, bunched up and carelessly, towards the madman stumbling his way across the ice towards them.

Jaxon saw the platoon advancing and breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't expected to get this lucky – there was easily twenty men coming towards him, if not more. Somebody in the Sith camp suspected foul play, it seemed. The platoon had come closer now, and one of the troops shouted over at him. 'Sir! Stop where you are! Do not move!'

There was discussion amongst some of the soldiers, and then a team of five men moved forwards as the rest of the platoon came to a halt where they were on the ice – Jaxon stopped and let them come to him. He could already sense Amely's presence.

A strained groan sounded out over the ice sheet, causing some of the men to pause and glance nervously around them. Some caught on faster than others, staring down past their feet at the water that lay beneath the thick ice they stood on. There came another groan, followed by the sound of ice cracking. One of the men screamed.

'Get back! Get back and ret—' the order was cut short by a sudden roar as the ice beneath the platoon gave way. In a tremendous explosion of ice chips and water the sheet dumped twenty armed soldiers into the subzero arctic waters below. Dragged down by the weight of their weapons and armour, the men never had a chance. They were dead as soon as they were dunked in the water.

The five men who had advanced to take Jaxon into custody stood still, eyes wide in disbelief of what had just happened. In a flash, sped on by the power of the Force, Amely emerged from behind the snow bluff and sprinted to be by Jaxon's side, her lightsaber humming and casting a green glow over the seven of them.

'Sorry,' she said with a grin, raising her blade up on guard, 'had to break the ice!'

Without waiting, she lunged forwards into the Sith troops, cutting down three of them before Jaxon could ignite the blue blade of his own lightsaber and finish off the remaining two. Almost immediately the air sang with the hum of laser bolts as the rest of the camp opened fire at the two Jedi. 'Looks like we're in the thick of it now!' Amely purred as she batted a bolt that came dangerously close to her face back in the direction of its shooter.

'Get to the excavation!' Jaxon shouted, leaping over the scar Amely had smashed into the ice with the Force, 'they'll know we're coming now!'

As the Jedi moved into the camp they danced around each other in an elegant light show of blue and green, cutting down anyone who stood before them and flinging away with the Force those they couldn't reach. The grace and speed with which Amely moved was breathtaking. Jaxon watched as she twirled through the air to take out two soldiers before pushing back a third with the Force, slicing her blade around to take out the legs of yet two move and then drive it through the stomach of a sixth. A moment too late to help, Jaxon sensed the sniper behind her, high up in a crow's nest, squeeze the trigger, sending a laser bolt straight for the back of her head. Lazily, as she began to walk away from the scene of battle, Amely reached around to her back with her lightsaber. The bolt struck the plasma beam and rebounded back at a perfect trajectory, punching through the sniper's armour and zipping through his chest. He let out a scream as he fell from the tower and smashed, head first, into the hard ice below.

The mouth of the tomb was visible now, intricately carved by the ancients to look like the maw of some great ice dragon. There was, however, no time to stop and admire the formidable handiwork that had gone into carving the giant pyramid-like structure out of ice, as all around the heads of both Jedi the battle raged. Two against a small army, they fought their way ever closer to the great maw of the tomb, where an industrious officer was hastily trying to erect a machine gun emplacement to block the entrance.

'Amely, get down!' Jaxon shouted over the zip of near-missing laser bolts. Amely hesitated, smashing back a flurry of shots that came her way, but then sensed what her master had – the machine gun trained on them from across the way. She cursed, and dove to the side as a hail of fire cut up the ice where she'd been standing just moments before. The bolts cast by the machine gun were too fat to be effectively blocked by a lightsaber blade; they had no choice but to find cover behind an armoured shield put up as the back wall of a makeshift tent, now abandoned.

Crouching behind the wall, ears blistering with the sound of the torrent of gunfire, Jaxon racked his brain for a course of action.

'We can't stay here!' Amely next to him shouted. He nodded.

'You go right,' Jaxon ordered, 'I'll go left. One of us will inevitably draw their fire – the other one cuts across and charges them. If they change targets to intercept the one of us who is charging, the other moves in. Use the Force, let it guide you, you'll know when to react.'

'Got it.'

'May the Force be with you.'

Without another word both Jedi exploded at full speed, bolstered by the Force, out from their hiding place. Jaxon immediately sensed the barrel of the machine gun training on him, and he pushed himself to move faster as he felt the thick laser blasts scorch overhead. He could sense Amely breaking from her arc to charge headlong at the gunners, but almost as soon as she did, he felt the gun slip off of him and turn to her direction – just as he'd predicted it would.

He turned immediately, dashing desperately to close the gap between him, Amely, and the machine gun, just as it opened fire with her charging right down the front of its barrel. With ballerina-like grace Amely skipped, first to one side, then the other, dancing around the bolts of laser as if they were nothing. Maintaining her speed, she closed the distance in a second flat, the first slice from her blade cutting the barrel of the machine gun in half, and then pushed the gunner away while she decapitated the spotter with one quick wrench of her lightsaber. As Jaxon reached her side, the gunner, dazed and bruised by being thrown against the wall of ice that led into the tomb, started reaching for the pistol by his hip. Amely crossed calmly over to him and thrust the green tip of her blade into his heart. He let out a stifled yell, and then slumped forwards dead.

'After you, master,' Amely said with a mock bow, gesturing with her saber into the heart of the pyramid.

'I have a bad feeling about this...' Jaxon muttered, holding out his lightsaber in front of him as he took the lead between the two of them, casting an eerie blue hue around the pitch black interior of the ice tomb.

'Control your feelings,' Amely teased him, 'be mindful of your thoughts. Clear your mind. Lah lah lah.'

'Focus!' Jaxon said sternly to her, eyes straining to see ahead in the darkness, and Amely giggled. Like in Kyros' temple Jaxon was finding it hard to rely on the Force in this place – it was corrupted by Dark Side power, and as such he couldn't trust it to guide him. Unlike the temple, however, the barrenness of the wasteland was such that there wasn't enough energy to align itself against a vulnerable Force Sensitive like Amely. As a result she was undeterred, following quietly along behind Jaxon, saber hilt gripped tightly in both hands.

After a series of antechambers that contained ice statues of various ancient Sith Lords ('Marka Ragnos...Naga Sadow...Freedon Nadd...Darth Revan...' Amely recited diligently, recognising their features from her studies), the path branched off in three separate directions at a crossroads. Jaxon paused in the centre, lowering his blade and shutting his eyes to focus. He heard Amely's footsteps and the hum of her lightsaber growing nearer behind him.

'I was always taught that Revan returned to the Light...' she whispered, '...why would his likeness be revered in the too—whoa...' she stopped talking as she saw the problem that faced them. 'Oh...crap.'

Jaxon sensed his apprentice's eyes on him as he focused, trying to feel down the three paths and determine which would bring him to the burial chamber. He suddenly became acutely aware of the vibe being given off by Amely; a strong sense of patient amusement at his expense. He opened his eyes to look at her.

'What is it?'

'Oh, nothing...' she twirled a lock of hair around one finger, '...it's just that we're going straight. The burial chamber is down that way,' she pointed ahead through the darkness with her green blade.

'And how do you know that?' Jaxon asked, impressed for the umpteenth time by his young padawan.

Amely just shrugged playfully. 'I guess I just cleared my mind and focused!' she giggled again. Jaxon shook his head, and started on down the middle path.

'If the Sith Lord draws his lightsaber for a fight...do not take any chances,' Jaxon instructed coolly. 'He is a formidable opponent.' He could sense Amely nodding behind him, and pressed on, thankful of the layers they had put on before leaving the shuttle. He shuddered to think how it would have felt to traverse this tomb without them.

Suddenly, something told Jaxon they had reached the end of the thin corridor – a few seconds later it opened out into a square chamber. Amely gasped as she increased her pace to stand beside Jaxon. Then their eyes focused, and they could see what was within it.

A sarcophagus of ice lay in the centre of the room, complete with the sunburst sigil of the Sith Empire and engravings showing Queen Nixis murdering a woman who must have been her mother Sydia, and her in mourning thereafter. In front of the sarcophagus, a black-clad S'kytri knelt, wings tucked behind him as he bowed. This, Jaxon knew with a flash of anger, was Darth Malevent; but it was not the resting place of Nixis he was bowing to in righteous supplication.

At the far end of the chamber, on a raised platform, there sat a throne carved out of the ice, no doubt for presiding over religious ceremonies in the days when the location of the tomb was still known and a place of pilgrimage for those who followed the Dark Side of the Force. At the moment, however, it was occupied – and it was to this occupant that Malevent now bowed.

The Sith Lord was a Devaronian – those red-skinned, black-horned aliens who looked frighteningly like the Devils out of the oldest religions – and, like his apprentice, was clad head to toe in robes of black. His face remained visible underneath his deep hood, and Jaxon could see him grinning malevolently as he noticed the Jedi enter the room, lightsabers flashing as they came up on guard instinctively.

'It is too late, Jedi,' the Devaronian said in a voice as cold as the ice tomb around them, 'I already have what it is I came for.'

It was then that Jaxon noted the small, pyramid-shaped stone sitting on one of the arms of the ice throne, which the Sith now tapped teasingly with one finger. 'I have the power of the great Sydia, Dark Lady of Akashan legend, and with it, nothing will stop the resurrection of the New Sith Empire from the ashes of civil war!'

'There is no way that either of you can be allowed to leave this pyramid alive,' Jaxon said, his lightsaber still firmly on guard, 'this icy tomb will become yours as well.'

'You better believe it,' Amely quipped at his side.

The Devaronian's nostrils flared, and he gave a bone-chilling cackle that turned Jaxon's heart to ice. 'There is a _fire_ in these two Jedi, my young apprentice. I think you will enjoy killing them.'

At his word, Darth Malevent stood up and bowed his head one final time. 'Thy bidding is my command, master,' and he turned around, his crimson blade unsheathing with a soft burst.

'This time, I've got your back, Jaxon,' Amely whispered, and the soft, gentle way with which she spoke his name sent a flutter of warmth through him that empowered him. Together, he felt, with her by his side, they could overcome the Sith Lord.

'Your intransigence...your _ignorance_...has got you far enough,' Malevent's master, seated from on high, spoke in a crackling voice, 'but I am Nephilis of the Sith! My will be done!'

'You know what to do,' Jaxon said quietly to Amely, and she nodded calmly.

'Way ahead of you.' The two Jedi walked away from each other, encircling Darth Malavent so that he stood between them, with them on either side. Jaxon was greatly impressed by the calmness he could sense in Amely's soul; maybe here, when put to the ultimate test, she would realise just what it took to be one with the Force; to be a true Jedi.

At once, sensing each other about to move, the Jedi surged forwards and rushed Malevent. Their lightsabers sailed overhead in triumphant arcs of blue and green, crashing down against the blood red of Malevent's with ear-splitting cracks. The Sith Lord had lost none of the speed or strength of Jaxon's previous encounter with him; he moved like a man possessed, twisting one way to parry Amely, then twisting the other to parry Jaxon. He was fast enough that, even with a single blade against two, he was holding them off successfully.

The three blades danced around with other in a myriad of colour. They cracked and crackled and fired off against each other as the three combatants waltzed across the room ducking, jumping, twisting and panting with the exertion of the fight. Malevent was better and better again than Jaxon had anticipated; he managed to slip out from between the two Jedi, almost causing Amely and Jaxon to slice into each other as they both lined up offensive moves, and glide effortlessly across the floor so that he stood across from them. Now when the two Jedi resumed their attack, they were both attacking him head on – it was less effort for him to parry both lightsabers at once.

Malevent delivered a swift kick to Amely's chin, but she reacted just in time – though the heel of his boot grazed her, she flipped backwards, landing on her hands and springing back up onto her feet a few metres away. Jaxon meanwhile pressed his advantage, driving the tip of his blade forwards to attempt to impale the Sith S'kytri. Malevent, however, pre-empted the strike and batted Jaxon's blade away effortlessly, momentarily causing Jaxon to lose concentration in his surprise and giving Malevent the opening to push with the Force and send Jaxon sprawling back in a heap next to Amely, kill switch releasing and lightsaber going dead.

Malevent's great dark wings unfurled behind him and flapped steadily, lifting him up a meter into the air. Letting his blade rest off guard by his side he raised his left hand and, with a grim smile spreading across his face, let a torrent of lightning shoot forth from his palm. Amely reacted immediately, leaning over her master with her blade to catch the arc and shield Jaxon. The force of the energy blast drove her to one knee but, grimacing against the strength of Malevent's lightning arc, she nonetheless held fast, keeping her blade between Jaxon and Malevent.

Jaxon reached for his lightsaber and enclosed his fingers around the icy cold hilt. Leaning over him, Amely was grunting with exertion as she tried to keep the lightning off him. He knew he would have to move fast. 'Amely...' he said quietly so that Malevent wouldn't hear, '...move out of the way on three. One...two...'

Jaxon ignited his lightsaber with a burst and wrenched it in front of his face, '...THREE!' Amely leapt to the side and the arc of lightning exploded past her, still being fed from Malevent's outstretched arm, only to be caught by the blue plasma of Jaxon's lightsaber.

Though the force of the Dark Side energy had him pinned to the ground and immobilised, Amely was able to dash up towards Malevent and throw her saber. It glided through the air towards the Sith, forcing him to relent from his Force attack and swat it out of the way with his blade. By the time he had recovered, Jaxon and Amely were side by side once again, and Malevent landed with a dull thud.

'Excellent, excellent!' Darth Nephilis' voice rang out and Jaxon heard him clapping from his throne behind them, 'these Jedi have real affection for each other,' his cackle had taken on a mocking tone, 'even if one survives...the death of one with destroy the other _for_ us.' He laughed again, and Jaxon ground his teeth in frustration. 'Make it so.'

At his master's command, Malevent strode forwards, a look of venomous loathing on his face for the two Jedi. This time, it was he who was on the offensive, and if he had been in control of the fight while on the defensive, now he was able to dictate the pace entirely on his own terms. He slashed forwards, knocking both their sabers out of the way and then went to follow up. Not about to surrender the momentum to the Sith Lord, Amely tried to launch an offensive flurry – Malevent knocked her out of the way and then smashed her with the Force against the far wall. She slid down in a crumpled heap.

Jaxon swung at Malevent's head while he was watching Amely's flight across the room, but the Sith turned around a moment too soon and caught Jaxon's blade. They struggled together, blades locked and crackling like thunder, and then broke. At the same time, they twirled their blades in a stylish flourish before bringing them down. Once, twice, three times they cracked against each other and bounced away, and on the fourth strike, as Jaxon lifted his blade over his head to maximise the swing, Malevent delivered a crushing spinning kick into his gut.

Jaxon rolled with the kick, ignoring the crumpling pain in his stomach, but the Sith had been too strong. Again, Jaxon hit the floor and slid across the ice. He reacted too slowly; before he could bring his lightsaber up on guard Malevent let out a torrent of lightning again – this time, it struck him unabated.

Jaxon screamed as every nerve in his being lit up like the fires of a thousand suns. The lightning, which was the most iconic symbol of the Dark Side's destructive power, was not simply electricity – it was utter manipulating of a living being's nervous system, the most perfect form of torture. The most brutal and heinous way to destroy an enemy.

Jaxon writhed and thrashed on the icy ground. His lightsaber slipped from his fingers, but he couldn't summon the presence of mind to search for it, so overloaded were his senses with agonising pain. He felt the blood in his veins begin to boil, the tendrils of lightning lick at his eyeballs and jump his heart out of rhythm. His nerves blazed from the soles of his feet to the deepest nexus of his brain, all screaming along with him in agony.

'Master!' he heard Amely's voice, and sensed her sprint forwards, lifting her green blade over her head to slice at Malevent.

With fluid, unbelievably quick movements, Malevent lazily raised his lightsaber to block her strike. He released Jaxon from his torment and twirled around, slashing to the side to knock Amely's blade out of her hands, then delivered a front kick to her chest.

The apprentice rolled with the momentum more successfully than Jaxon had; she managed to land back on her feet and bring the hilt of her lightsaber back to her with the Force. It ignited with a fountain of green energy and she sprinted forwards again just as Jaxon regained his stance and, likewise summoning his lightsaber to him with the Force, began to advance on Malevent again from the opposite side.

With one quick movement, Malevent knocked Amely's first strike away and then pulled his lightsaber back in the opposite direction – slicing through the child's undefended belly.

Amely cried out in pain, a look of shock in her eyes – and then her legs crumbled away from underneath her.

Jaxon roared in horror. 'NO!' he surged forward, possessed by despair and hatred, his entire field of vision suddenly bathed in red.

Malevent turned at the last second and met his blade, and again the two lightsabers danced against each other, crackling and barking with each hit, red and blue lights flickering around the near-pitch black burial chamber.

The anger and desperation Jaxon felt in his heart over Amely fuelled him and energised him; he moving quicker, reacting faster and throwing stronger strikes than he ever had before in his life. The fire within him grew and grew to a boiling point until he felt that it would consume him utterly, engulfing him in its flames from the inside out. Beneath his furious onslaught, he could feel the Sith Lord drawing back. Malevent was beginning to show signs of exhaustion; he couldn't keep up with Jaxon's newly discovered pace.

_The power_...Jaxon thought hungrily..._it is unbelievable_. He delivered an overhead smash, which Malevent blocked only at the last second, and then another, and another, the two lightsabers crackling against each other with each strike.

Suddenly, there was a look in Malevent's red eyes that Jaxon registered as one of fear. He was about to kill him. Jaxon drew his blade over his head once again for a fourth, fatal strike, and brought it down...

...but it hit nothing but cold, hard ice. Malevent had stepped to the side, and now delivered an overhead strike of his own, not down on Jaxon's exposed neck, but on the hilt of his lightsaber itself.

There was a shower of sparks and the weapons in Jaxon's hand exploded into two pieces, its blade dying almost instantaneously. Malevent picked Jaxon up with the power of the Force and threw him back against the front of the platform. Jaxon hit the floor with a dull thud and groaned.

With his holocaustal anger subsiding in the wake of his second, sudden stunning defeat at Malevent's hands, he was now more aware of his surroundings – there was the sound of shouting voices and hurried footsteps down the passage through which he and Amely had come through, and he realised that reinforcements were, at last showing up.

Malevent rounded on him and, blade striking against the floor ominously, moved in for the killing blow.

'Enough, apprentice!' Darth Nephilis, Jaxon could sense, had stood up from his throne and pocketed the holocron. It was only now that he reached out with the Force to get a sense of what was happening around him did Jaxon realise that, behind the throne, there was a rear entrance to the tomb that he had not noticed before. It was towards this exit that Nephilis had now turned his attention. 'Our men will finish off this unarmed Jedi,' he said quietly, 'Korriban will not wait for us to deal personally with every little distraction. Let us go.'

Jaxon heard the sound of Malevent's saber being extinguished, and breathed a sigh of relief as he tried to pick himself back up, every bone in his body rattled by the impact of hitting the wall. The shouts down the corridor were growing louder now, so Jaxon only waited for Malevent to climb the steps to the throne dais before crawling across the floor to Amely.

The child lay in a pool of her own blood, left hand clutching the wound on her stomach, right hand's fingers loosely enclosed around the hilt of her lightsaber. Jaxon knelt next to her and picked up her head, cradling it in her hands.

'I'm sorry, master...' she whispered, eyelids heavy and body trembling slightly. 'I'm sorry I failed you...'

'You didn't...' Jaxon blubbed, suddenly aware that there were tears streaming down his cheeks. 'You didn't, Amely, I failed _you_...'

'Don't say that, master...' she replied quietly, '...you were a grea...' she winced at a sudden stab of pain, '...you were a great teacher. I learnt so much from you.'

The sounds of running men were closer still; in a matter of moments they would burst into the room and end Jaxon's life in a shower of laser fire. Amely tried to open her eyes to look over at the door. She clutched the hilt of her lightsaber to her chest tightly.

'You go,' she croaked, 'go after those Sith and stop them from using Sydia's holocron. I'll hold these guys off,' she flashed a weak smile, and Jaxon felt his heart melt.

'I am so, so sorry...' he whispered to her, and then bowed his head low and kissed her on the lips. She tasted soft and warm and gentle, and as he pursed his lips against hers he thought he could feel her doing the same. Then the Sith troopers crashed into the room and her lightsaber blazed into life, throwing a green light over the two Jedi.

Jaxon followed Amely's advice, letting her head down gently and then sprinting up the stairs to follow on after the two Sith who had absconded through the rear exit.

At the mouth of the tunnel, Jaxon paused, his heart breaking, but not looking back.

He stepped forwards, and left Amely Cora behind in the tomb.


End file.
